Heaven's A Lie
by Ready Or Notxx
Summary: The first time, they had to rely on each other's downfalls to survive. In this new age of longing, they have to trust each other's strengths. A/L. T for strong language and mild sexual themes.
1. Prologue

_**Heaven's A Lie**_

By No More Sorrowxx

Prologue: Separated From Fear

Well, well, darlings! I got another good I idea, but I'm not sure if this has been used before, so…XD Don't flame me if it has. And also…all you Adam/Angst lovers will enjoy this fic. :D Also, are Adam's eyes blue or brown? Cuz they look blue to me. XD

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There had been blood.

It had flown out evenly, sluggishly, a little too quickly.

His eyes had become glazed, those beautiful blue eyes.

His mouth had gaped open, only the sound of breathing escaping it and the sound of trying to stay alive, the sound of his body working to clot the blood, to stop it from running out into a huge pool underneath him.

His skin had become so pale, and he's pale anyways, but he had never been this pale, never looked this dead.

The color had faded from his cheeks, turning his lips purple and making every vain visible beneath his skin.

A knife is all it takes to end a life, only a sharp metal blade that you can hold steadily in two hands, or in one shaking hand. Holding a knife with one hand is almost impossible, almost not done, almost not able to make that striking blow. But in two, the knife is steady, the knife is held with confidence, confidence that what the user is doing is right, be it a chef or a serial killer. And he was confident. He was confident in his decision as he spoke those words, those hollow, heartless, adamant words that could've convinced anyone that he was going to do it, and he did. He made the knife pierce his skin, made the dark red regret flow out of his veins.

He's still confident as he falls, he falls down, down onto the floor. His eyes are wide, but he knows what he did and why he did it.

And _he…_The other…He just watches with wider eyes because he is _not _confident in this, this is not what he wants. This is not what he asked for, this is not what he needed. He didn't need the man to become depressed. He didn't ask for the blood all over the kitchen floor, running between the crevices of the tiles. He didn't ask to be right in front of him when this happened. _"Adam…" _he whispers sharply, his blue eyes frightful.

That wound in his stomach just keeps on bleeding because it doesn't care if Adam lives or dies. It just cares about letting his blood go into the outside world, and it certainly doesn't care about the pain he's in. _"You moron!" _Adam and the wound hear the other man yell, but the wound doesn't care what the other man wants. Doesn't care how upset and distressed he is. It just cares about killing Adam.

Adam can hear sounds out of the darkness of his mind, out of the floating space he lingers in. He can hear a voice, a voice sharp and distressed. _Aw, come on Lawrence. We knew this was coming. We both knew that this was going to end up happening. _A thin trail of blood escapes from his mouth, but he doesn't care. It tastes salty, metallic, and he doesn't care. All he knows is that it tastes bitter, like his whole being, like his whole existence. _This is what I wanted. This is what I wanted. This is what I wanted. _He keeps saying it to himself, forces it through his skull, forces himself to believe it. _This is what I wanted. This is what I wanted. This is what I wanted. This is what I wanted._

_This is what I fucking wanted._

_I want to die. I want to die. I want to die._

He still hears Lawrence in the background. He then feels something that almost drowns all of the pain out, drowns his own forced words out of his head. He feels something lightly glide over the wound, something that fills it with warmth. He feels a hand on his back, and underneath the back of his legs. What bothers Adam the most is that he _likes it. _He likes the warmth, but at the same time…

_No! No! No! No!_

"Adam," the voice in the fog says. "Adam, open your eyes. Speak to me, tell me it's going to be all right. _Please, please, please! I need you to show me you're going to be okay!"_

_Shut up, shut up, shut up! _Adam wishes he has the strength to force his palms to his ears, wishes he can just block out all of the noise. But his strength has gone. And it might not be coming back. Adam feels his head fall back, still feels the metallic taste on his tongue.

He allows himself to breathe better, he feels his own chest rising up and down. _Oh God…Lawrence… _He wants to rub his fist against his eye. He wishes he can tell Lawrence that he didn't go too deep with the knife, that if he acts now, he won't bleed to death. But the warmth has left his lips, apart from the blood, and there's nothing left that he can do.

_I drove my own self to this. So did Jigsaw. He made me do this to myself. He made me do this._

_Let me at least see Lawrence again._

Suddenly, he doesn't hear Lawrence anymore. He only hears something like blaring radio static in the back of his mind, and he succumbs to sleep.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Well, like I said, my prologues are short. And of course Adam won't die. XD Because that would make me cry. A LOT. So please enjoy the rest of the fic!

Please R&R!

No More Sorrowxx


	2. Sort of Dead Now

_**Heaven's A Lie  
By No More Sorrowxx  
Chapter 1: Sort of Dead Now**_

XD Thank you guys for your reviews...Stella, that only took me about twenty minutes to type. Was it really that good? XD XD And yeah, I watched the DB trailer...DUDE, his eyes ARE greenish gray. Well, it is Leigh Whannell, an amazing man. It's only sensible that he would have an awesome eye color too...XD

Okay, so like I said, that last chapter was only a prologue. Now this is where it actually starts...

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The only thing he feels-no, the only thing he wants to feel just to make sure he's still alive-is his stinging shoulder. Every time he turns over, it feels like someone's taken a pocket knife and twisted it around in the little hole created in his shoulder. Sometimes he can feel it bleeding again. He'd found the bullet earlier, still lodged in his skin, and he'd pulled it out himself. Talk about feeling like someone'd jammed a pocket knife in his skin.

There's no point in staying awake anymore, staying awake in this bathroom that reeks of death and crap, old, non-solid crap. There's no point in staying awake because he knows that this is the end. In a few hours, maybe in a few minutes, he will die. He doesn't want to live anymore anyways. Not in here. Not with the light turned off, with the smell gagging him, with the floor cold tiles made from ice.

There's a body in front of him, a body with its face bludgeoned, a body he'd killed himself. He doesn't know the person at all. All he knows is that that person was an enemy when he'd killed him. Killed him to save...

No. He's not even going to think about whose life he's saved. He can't. That's gone forever. He'll never see that person again, anyways.

_Say his name. You remember his name. You KNOW you remember his name. You can't forget it. No matter how hard you try, you'll NEVER forget him._

"I...don't know who you're talking about," he rasps out loud. He pulls his own hair, wanting to rip out the memories along with it.

_You're so stubborn. Just admit it. He broke his promise, and there's no point in believing in him anymore. You've been in here for a long time now. Maybe a day or two. You remember him. You helped him. And he caused that wound in your shoulder._

"Shut. Up, for fuck's sake!" he snaps back to the voice in his head.

_Say it. You know you want to. You loved him. You started to love him. That's why you saved him. That's why you didn't care when he shot you._

His mouth gapes open, but his eyes are still squinted closed. "La..."

_That's it. Say it._

"La...Lawrence," Adam Faulkner whispers. "His name is Lawrence..." He rubs his sweating forehead and blinks back tears. For once, he's glad Lawrence Gordon isn't here to see him. Isn't here to see him blinking back tears. Isn't here to hear is throat close while he's talking. "He's still coming back for me...He has to be...He promised me."

_Adam, wake up. He doesn't care about you. That's why he shot you. Because he'd trade you for someone else in a heartbeat if he could. He has no respect for you and your world. All he cares about his getting to his own fucked up world of doctors and lawyers and men coming home to their wives with their stupid briefcases. He doesn't care about you. That's why he left._

Adam looks at the gun on the floor near him and sighs. All he has to do is reach for it and put his finger on the trigger. He won't have to suffer anymore. All he'll have to do is point the gun at himself and slide the trigger back...Yes, that'll be much simpler than staying in this shithole any longer.

He reaches for the pistol and grabs its handle, pulling it towards himself. He won't do it just yet.

Nine minutes. That's all he's giving himself now. Nine minutes to say good-bye.

Adam stares at the gun for a few seconds before sitting up. _Do it, _the voice says. _What the hell are you waiting for? There's nothing out there for you, and it's a little obvious that there's nothing in here. _

The truth is, even with every thought Adam's had of suicide, he's afraid to do it. He's afraid of the pain, afraid of what will happen when he dies. Afraid of his body being discovered and his parents seeing it.

Afraid of the fact of if there's a heaven, or if it's just a lie.

Because he knows there's a hell now. He's in it already.

Eight minutes.

_Come on, be a big boy, Adam. This is what you've always wanted but have been too chicken to do. Now you're all alone in here. There's no escape. Do it._

Adam bites his lip hard, almost enough to make it bleed. Oh, God...How he wants to do it...

Seven minutes.

It'll help him forget this world. Forgetting his all he needs. It's going to clear his head. He won't have to worry about being here anymore. Because in heaven, there are no serial killers abducting you from your home at night. No people pitting you against someone else.

Six minutes.

Five minutes and fifty nine seconds until the trigger is pulled.

Five minutes and fifty eight seconds, and the door has just been opened.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lawrence looks up from his pillow, where he had just been resting his head. He hears footsteps in the hospital hallway, pounding against the floor rapidly. At the door comes a detective, a detective Lawrence had seen earlier. The detective who had been looking for Adam Faulkner.

"They've just found him," the detective stated, half-smiling. "He's okay. He's going to be fine. They're fixing to sew his shoulder wound closed, and in a few hours, he'll wake up."

Lawrence grins, sitting up. "Wow..."

To think the last time he'd seen Adam, Adam had been crying, despairing over being trapped. Now he's finally out of the bathroom.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

How long's it been now? Like a day since Adam was brought to the hospital?

Lawrence yawns and sits up again. They'd sewn his foot back on. He lifts the bed's blanket and looks at the stitches. He isn't able to walk yet, but with help from physical therapy and crutches, he won't be able to walk perfect, but he'll be able to get around. And that's more than a lot of people can say.

Right?

Lawrence jumps as the door opens, and the nurse comes in with a tray of food for him. He hasn't really noticed how hungry he is until now. In fact, as the nurse gives the tray to him, his stomach growls. "Thank you," he says to her quietly.

"You're very welcome, sir," the nurse replies, smiling. She turns around and starts to leave.

"Um, wait just a second please!" Lawrence calls, and the nurse turns to look at him with a questioning look in her eyes. "Would you happen to know how Adam Faulkner's doing, ma'am?" Lawrence asks.

"He's doing fine physically," the nurse answers quietly, not meeting Lawrence's eyes. Lawrence's smile fades and his heart drops. What's the bad news? "His bullet wound has been sewn up, and they found no other major wounds."

"But...?" Lawrence adds onto her speech.

"About an hour ago, when we tried to get him to eat, he refused the food. When we told him he had to eat to get his strength back, he said he didn't care. And...Every time someone comes into the room, he jumps up and starts trembling, like he's afraid of something."

"Well, we _were _held captive by a serial killer," Lawrence reminds her. "He's probably still in shock. He should get over it later. Right?"

The nurse grins again. "Yes, of course. He'll calm down. Maybe we'll give him some medication to do so. That might help. I'll be back in a little while." She leaves the room, shutting the door behind her.

Yes, Adam's going to be all right. In a day or so, he should be back to his old nicotene-loving, angry, child-like self.

Stupid kid.

The door opens again, and Lawrence immediately recognizes the face and blonde hair of his wife, Allison Gordon. She gives him one of those sad, pasted on smiles when she sees him. "Hello, honey," she says to him. "I left Diana at my mother's. I didn't think she should see you like this. I thought it was best."

Lawrence bites his lip in disappointment. When he'd heard his daughter was still alive, well...He'd known God had sent him a miracle. "All right, that's fair," he mutters.

"Sorry I couldn't visit yesterday. The only time I had was when they were sewing your foot back on, so..."

"It's all right." Lawrence's words are steel walls in this uncomfortable conversation. It's hard to talk to her now, hard to talk to her after all they've just been through. "What you can't help is what you can't help. All that matters is that you're alive now."

Allison's eyes immediately cloud with tears.

_Oh, God, please don't cry... _Lawrence begs her silently.

"When I heard..." Allison began, wiping her eyes with the back of her right hand. "When I heard what you'd been through, I just...I'm so sorry, Larry."

"It was all my fault, Ally," Lawrence says quietly. "I got us into this mess...I love you, and that's all that matters now. We made it through this alive."

Allison nods, her smile brightening. "That's right." She sits down in a chair across from his bed. "So...who was that Adam guy I told you not to believe?"

"He's just someone who helped me get out alive. He's here in the hospital somewhere. I haven't seen him yet. They just found him last night." He looks down, thinking about what the nurse told him. Thinking about Adam's paranioa.

Allison catches the look on her husband's face and frowns. "Did he...Is he dead?"

And Lawrence answers, "Sort of."

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Adam's sitting in his hospital bed. His fingers are shaking. His eyelids are drooping. They want to shut. They want to shut so bad. But every time they almost shut, Adam snaps a rubber band he keeps on his wrist against his skin. To remind himself he has to stay awake, he has to stay alert.

Because Jigsaw hasn't been caught yet.

Because Jigsaw can come through the door at any moment and steal Adam away.

Because Adam doesn't know who Jigsaw is.

Because Jigsaw can be anybody.

Adam's head starts to droop as he sits there. He's hungry, so fucking hungry. He's only eaten once since he's been here, and that was last night after the detectives had found him. But he can't eat. He can't allow himself to be vulnerable to anyone here. He can't allow himself to be shown as weak.

And what's ironic is that that strange fact is weakness in itself.

If you're going to read this, don't bother.

After a couple of chapters, you won't want to be here. So forget it. Go away. Save yourself.

There has to be something better for you to do.

Or since you have time on your hands, maybe you could make something of yourself. Write your own story where everyone's happy, where everyone's singing and dancing and where Adam and Lawrence are two happy individuals. Or maybe you could just click on the archive link and read another fic, one a little more lighthearted. Or maybe you could just turn your computer off altogether, leave your house, and go hang out with your friends.

Because what happens here is first going to piss you off.

And after that, it just gets worse and worse.

Adam knows Lawrence is here. He knows because the nurses have told him. He knows because he's asked so many times. He knows because they've answered him back so many times the same exact answer.

_"Yes, he's here."_

Jerking his head up, Adam plucks the rubberband and it snaps against his wrist, which is red and lined from all of the snappings.

Poor little boy. Poor, poor little Adam Faulkner. Poor little crybaby, hiding behind his mother.

Adam stops for a moment and thinks about what had happened before his dad had left his mother. How he'd been so upset about the divorce. How every time he'd done one little thing wrong, he'd just let himself be broken and humiliated. All his childhood, he kept telling people, _"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."_ It hadn't helped, anyways. Eventually, he'd stopped saying it. Who fucking gives a crap if he's sorry, anyways?

Adam plucks the rubberband again, his drooping eyes looking around the room. He's going to save himself this time. He has to.

And if you think sorry is going to save you...

If you think anything is going to save you...

Please consider this your final warning.

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I can't wait to see how many words I've written this time. :D

Please R&R!

- No More Sorrowxx


	3. What You're Living For

_**Heaven's A Lie  
By No More Sorrowxx  
Chapter 2: What You're Living For**_

Yes, I too have an extreme weakness for angsty Adam...

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When Adam was younger, his only true friend, the only friend who'd never stabbed him in the back, was his mother. And no, that didn't make him a mama's boy. She was also the only friend who he'd never have to leave, who he'd be with until he grew out of her. And because she was the only friend whose lap he could sit in, the only friend who would stroke his face and kiss his boo-boos and tell him it was going to be okay. She was the only one who could tell him he was going to be just fine.

He was going to be just fine.

_Was._

Adam snaps the rubberband again for what seems to be the millionth time. And thank God he'd found that rubberband, that precious tool to keep him awake, to keep him from meeting death like he almost did. He's still reflecting on his childhood.

_"Adam," his mommy said to him, coming in through the front door into the small apartment they now owned._

_"Mommy!" Adam squealed, bounding through the house like a dog who needs to go for walk. His eyes were big, and he was short, but that's not much different from today. There were black handprints on his face and on his arms._

_"I thought I told you not to use the paint when I'm not home, Adam," his mommy grumbled, setting her coat on its rack, the place it belongs, the only thing in that house that had its very own place. She looked at her small ten-year-old child and couldn't help but lift the corner of her mouth up. "Just look at you. You need a bath now, Adam." She craned her neck to see past the front hallway and into the stained living room. "Where's Sheena?"_

Looking like she'd been caught, a blonde-haired woman in a skimpy black tanktop and in black leather pants came out of the bathroom. Her brown eyes were wide like she expected she was going to be shot at any moment. "Hello, Ms. Faulkner," Sheena greeted Adam's mommy.

"I thought I told you not to let him near the paint," Adam's mommy snapped, pushing past Sheena and going into the bathroom, the dirty bathroom with hair clogging the bathtub drain and the toilet seat always up. In a regular home, the toilet seat being up would be the scourge of all mothers. But this was where Adam Faulkner grew up.

On the walls in the mommy's bathroom were handprints entirely in black paint, scattered about and smeared everywhere. The white walls, ruined permanently. The mommy scowled in Adam's direction. "Adam, did you do this?" she growled, noticing for a second that the handprints were all over his clothes as well, on his olive-colored jeans and on his white shirt.

Adam pouted, his eyes filling with tears instantly, as they always did. He rubbed his fists against them, not even letting his body face his mommy. "I'm sorry, Mommy," he wailed, his mouth gaping open in sobs. He's sobbing because he knows that's not what happened. Because he knows what Sheena did.

"I'm so sorry, Alice," Sheena said to the mommy. "He got into the paint, and by the time I noticed, it was too late." She paused to scratch her nose, but as she did...

The mommy noticed black paint coming off of her hands.

_Adam's mommy grabbed Sheena by the wrist. "Open your fist, Sheena," she growled._

"I don't see why-"

"Open your fucking fist."

Sheena opened her fist, sighing. "What the hell does this have to do with anything?" The fist was covered in black. The mommy then looked at Adam's fist, which had a little paint on it, but not like Sheena.

"Go home, Sheena," the mommy growled, pushing the baby-sitter to the front door. "Don't come back. Don't ever come back." She literally pushed Sheena out the door and slammed it closed, making the whole apartment shake. "What did she do to you?" the mommy immediately demanded from her son.

Adam wouldn't answer. His throat was closed, letting only the sobs escape.

"Answer me, sweetie," the mommy said, bending down to him. "What did she do?"

"Sh-she t-touched me," Adam hiccuped. "And she h-hurt me..." He lifted up a sleeve of his shirt and showed his mother a bruise on his arm. "I did get into th-the paint...And she kept screaming at me that you were going to blame it on her and fire her. So she started to hit m-me..."

_"How many times has she done this?"_

"A l-lot..."

Adam once again snaps the rubberband, and he covers his face with his hands after he does so. He'd been afraid to tell his mother about Sheena. Afraid to tell her about many things that might've made his life better if he had.

_"Adam," the mommy said to him one day. "I know you like taking pictures of people because you're artistic. You got that from your father. Just always be aware that art never comes from happiness. You're not taking these pictures because you're proud of it, and you're not taking these pictures because you actually like to do it. You're taking them because you need something to remind yourself why you're still alive. To remind yourself what you're living for."_

Adam nearly jumps out of his skin as the door opens. He takes his hands off of his face and scowls at the person in the doorway. It's another nurse, carrying a food tray. "I told you, I'm not fucking hungry," he snaps in sheer exasperation. "Now go away..."

"Adam, you're going to kill yourself if you keep going on like this," the nurse retorts, meeting his exasperation. "No sleep, no food."

"Since when does anyone care about _my _life?" Adam mutters, scratching below his eye where dark circles are starting to develop. But his stomach doesn't care what Adam wants. It's as if it has a mind of its own, as if it has its own eyes, as if it can see the apple and the bowl of cereal on the tray. "Do us all a favor and throw that food in the trash. I'm not going to eat it now and I'm not going to eat it later."

"I've been ordered to give it to you," the nurse replies, pursing her lips. Because she's not going to give up. Damn it, Adam knows she thinks she's going to make him eat today. "You have to keep your strength up." She walks over to him, her eyes widening. Then, putting one hand on the bottom of the tray to balance it much like a waitress, she grabs Adam's lined wrist. "Are you doing this to keep yourself from falling asleep?"

Adam jerks his wrist away from her, trembling. "Don't touch me! Don't fucking touch me!" he shouts, his eyes widening as well. _God, please, don't let her touch me again, _he thinks. _Don't let anyone touch me again._

Because if no one touches him, no one can steal him away.

Hell, Jigsaw could be this very nurse. Who ever said that Jigsaw _has _to be a man?

The nurse gripes, "Adam, you and I both know that that's not healthy! Stop doing this to yourself!"

So Adam does something else.

He swipes one hand upwards at the tray, sending it falling backwards and splashing milk everywhere. The nurse gasps, glancing around at the mess of food all over the floor. She glares at Adam before seeming to decide that this is useless. So she turns away from him and walks out the door, sending a silent chill throughout the room. Her dismay and disappointment still hangs in the air even after she's gone.

Adam stares at the mess on the floor, blinking his heavy eyes. Then, he stares at the rubberband on his wrist.

It's amazing how fatigue can change your mind.

Adam takes off the rubberband. It's useless to keep doing this. It's useless. He'll just sleep for a few minutes, just rest his eyes. Hell, he won't even let himself fall asleep. He'll just close his eyes...

He lays his head down on the pillow, shutting his eyes. Oh, how his eyelids enjoy finally closing. How they enjoy...How they enjoy...

The only sound in the room now is the sound of Adam's gentle breathing filling the room, signalling that he's fallen into sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lawrence has the TV remote in his hand, and he's flipping through all of the channels. Actually, he has about five times already, and he still knows that the shows won't change for another twenty seven minutes. He's flipping through all the moderately funny sitcoms, overly dramatic soap operas, and the little kid shows.

There's nothing good on...

But it doesnt really matter. It's not like he's really watching it anyways.

The nurse yesterday...had stormed down the hallway with blazing fire in her brown eyes. She'd stopped to mutter something to a doctor where Lawrence could hear her. Something about Adam Faulkner knocking over a tray of food on fury.

_Is Adam really going to be all right? _Lawrence asks himself. _I know he's an asshole, but still...Is he really not getting any better at all?_

He looks at the clock. It's about one A.M., and he isn't even attempting to sleep. He's already slept enough to not sleep again for the rest of the year.

"Lawrence..."

Lawrence snaps his glance away from the clock and stares at the doorway. And guess who's standing there.

Adam is, his eyes heavy with sleep. He rubs his fists against them and blinks rapidly, as if he trying to clear away sleep blindness, trying to clear up those black spots you see whenever you get up too fast. "Adam?" Lawrence's mouth gapes open. "Adam, go back to your room! Go sleep in your own bed." But Adam's half-closed eyes don't even meet his presence.

"Jigsaw's...coming," Adam murmurs, sounding just like a small child who's just had a nightmare, a child who's scared of the dark and just wants to feel his mother's warmth. "Lawrence, he's gonna take me..." And as if he's not thinking at all, he walks over to Lawrence's bed and climbs in beside him.

Lawrence inches over to the side to give Adam room so he won't fall out of the bed. Adam slides himself under the sheets, pressing against Lawrence's body. "Adam, get out of here," Lawrence mutters, but Adam's so delirious from fatigue that he doesn't seem to hear him. He lays his head down on the pillow, closes his eyes, and it takes him only seconds to fall asleep again.

And for some reason, that's okay. Lawrence doesn't mind Adam sleeping beside him. In fact, even though he didn't want to sleep before, now he does. So he smiles, and closes his own eyes.

Maybe this will help Adam get better.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

I love reliving Adam's childhood and forcing Adam and Lawrence together! XD P.S., I'm thinking about changing my penname. I'll either be XXRiotXX, Veins of Glassxx, Everybody's Foolxx, Time of Dyingxx, or Deceitxx. :D I'll PM everyone after I've decided.

Please R&R!

- No More Sorrowxx_  
_


	4. Unfixable

_**Heaven's A Lie  
By 00One X00  
Chapter 3:**_

**xXErineilXx: **XD Why thank you. I do enjoy when I get AWWWWWs a lot. It lets me know I'm doing my job right. :D Btw, I love your songfic story. It got me inspired to make mine...^^; I gave you credit for the idea, though...

**EmeraldDragon93: **At least Adam has Lawrence to go to. And at least he took out a little frustration by knocking the food over. XD I wish I woulda been there to see that. -points at the nurse and laughs- BWAHAHAHAHAHAH!

**xdannixxhx: **Thank you very much. :D Adam/Lawrence is my absolute favorite couple in Saw, and then there's Brit/Mallick that takes second place. XD But AL is in the lead BY FAR.

Well, there's going to be a **LOT **of things about this chapter that you guys will enjoy. Let me make a list: One, Adam being angsty and miserable. Two, Adam actually talking to someone (-pokes Larry-) about his misery. Three, Adam being driven further into Lawrence's arms. See, see? Didn't I tell you there were going to be some fun things about this chapter? **Notice: **Once again, I'm looking for new fic ideas. Please, **PLEASE, **in your next review, please proved me some sort of idea for an AL fic. Also, I'm going to start writing a BM (Brit/Mallick) fic as soon as I get an idea...I know, it's going to be WEIRD. My first non-Chainshipping fic. O.O Even THINKING about it gives me shivers, but I must do what I must do! Okay, now I'm going to stop boring you and let you get on with the actually story. So yeah. Uh huh. Read the story below. There's words. And italics. And FONT. And there's something about a dead person in there, but...Yeah. So read. Go ahead. I'm not trying to make more words by stalling or anything. (Yes I am. But don't read what's in these parentheses, and you'll never know, and we'll all be happier.) And now I'm sure you're WTFing over this long paragraph, so I am going to spare you more misery and just start the damn chapter. So read it. Am I pissing you off yet? Good. :D -dances to Riot by Three Days Grace- LET'S START A RIOT! A RIOT! LET'S START A RIOT! SO PAINFUL! SO PISSED OFF!...Right.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Lawrence is still awake, even though the lights are off. He can feel the warmth of Adam's body beside him, and he wants to roll his eyes at how pathetic Adam is right now. How clingy he is. But Lawrence just isn't that kind of person. Obviously, Adam needs him right now.

Or maybe Adam just needs _someone. _Maybe he just needs _anybody. _Because maybe somebody or anybody actually allows him to sleep, and that somebody or anybody is Lawrence for right now.

Lawrence tries to mind this. Because for one thing, it's as awkward as hell, a twenty-five-year-old man acting like a little boy who's just been woken from a nightmare and wants to sleep with his mother for the rest of the night. But Lawrence _doesn't _mind, and for some reason, he wonders why.

Adam smells like smoke and an exhaust pipe, and Lawrence knows it should bother him, but it doesn't. It's just Adam's smell, and no matter how much he showers, that's the smell he's been given. And Lawrence accepts that because it doesn't really smell all that bad. For a second, it actually smells kind of good, kind of intoxicating, like he's smoking the cigarettes himself, even though he's never done a drug a day in his life.

What is it about cigarette smoke that draws people to it? People claim it doesn't smell good, people cough and fuss over having to breathe it in, but in all actuality, it smells good. It's the intoxicating aroma that first draws you to it. For a while, it seems like it's a good thing, too.

But Lawrence is a doctor, and he's smart enough to know that it's _not _good, that smoking is just shoving a cancer stick in your mouth and inhaling something that's just going to make you lose weight and make you more miserable later on. It's a _stupid, stupid _habit that Adam has going on with him. And Lawrence could've told him that maybe that was one of the reasons Jigsaw put him in the bathroom while they were there. Maybe he could've stopped him, because the fake death hadn't worked anyways. Maybe he shouldn't have given Adam the cigarette in the first place. Because all he did was bring Adam a little closer to death.

Hell, it's not really even Adam's fault that he'd been brought to the bathroom anyways. Adam is a voyeur, and that's his _job. _What else is he going to get? A job as a wedding planner or something? Besides, being a voyeur should pay good, and Adam lives alone anyways. As long as he's alone, he should take _any _job because the only person he's watching out for is himself. Sure, Adam's an angry little self-centered child, just a child, but maybe that's not his fault either. Maybe that's just the way he is and always was.

Why is Jigsaw trying to fix a world that's already broken beyond repair anyways? All he's doing is creating psychos and pretty much ending lives. Jigsaw can't change Adam. People just don't change. They may _act _different, but they _aren't _different.

It's not Adam's fault he was there. He was just doing his job. Lawrence is the cheater, the one who lied. And technically Adam hadn't lied at all. He was never entitled to tell Lawrence what he had been doing. Lawrence was the one who had lied and said he'd just left work, but he was cheating on his wife. Maybe it's just all Lawrence's fault that Adam had ended up there.

Lawrence is jerked out of his restless thoughts because he hears something in the room. He opens his eyes and looks around in the darkness, his eyes adjusted to it so he can at least see the contrast between items and the outlines of them. He can hear something like...Heavy breathing, fast breathing like someone having an asthma attack. And he knows it's not himself, because he's breathing just fine. He sits up and looks down at Adam, but he can barely see him. Adam's eyes are closed and he looks like he's still asleep. "Adam," Lawrence whispers softly, prodding his shoulder. "Adam, wake up. What's wrong?"

Adam stirs and sits up fast, looking around wildly like he's scared or surprised. But his rapid and heavy breathing doesn't decrease at all as he seems to realize where he is. "Adam, are you all right?" Lawrence asks, his blue eyes widening with concern. _Does Adam have asthma? _he asks himself. He rubs Adam's back with one hand and stares at him to make sure he's all right. "You okay? You need a nurse, Adam? I'll call a nurse!"

"No, don't!" Adam snaps, and Lawrence can almost see his eyes flare up in the dark. Adam draws in a long, deep breath and breathes it out slowly, his shoulders shaking while he does so. And after a few more deep breaths, Adam's shoulders relax and his body goes from being tense to relaxed as well. "I'm fine..." he says after a long silence.

"I didn't know you have asthma," Lawrence says quietly, trying to calm his own self.

"I do _not._" Lawrence can tell Adam's not looking at him by the sound of his voice. "I smoke, so sometimes it's hard to breathe."

"You were having an asthma attack, Adam. I'm a doctor. I would know." And Lawrence isn't trying to sound like a know-it-all. He just wants Adam to understand that what just happened could've been a lot worse.

"Whatever," Adam mutters, wiping his forehead, like he's been sweating.

"You're sweating."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am _not_."

"Are _too_."

"Shut _up_."

"No."

"Yes."

"Adam, just tell me what's wrong with you."

Adam lets out an over-exaggerated, exasperated sigh that's actually very loud. _"Nothing's _wrong with me! I'm trying to sleep! Can't I just sleep like a normal human being! I've barely been able to sleep!" It's then that Lawrence notices something on Adam's wrist. Lawrence reaches towards a lamp that's near the bed and turns it on. Adam groans and covers his eyes at the sudden change in lighting, but Lawrence takes his wrist. On it's a rubberband that says:

_SLEEP SUCKS._

It's written in large black letter in messing handwriting, and Lawrence can tell it wasn't written with a sharpie because it's kind of smeared. Lawrence knows well enough what Adam's been doing now by the marks on Adam's wrist.

It's hardly been about five seconds until Adam jerks his arm away from Lawrence's grasp. "Don't touch me!" he yells.

"Relax, keep your voice down," says Lawrence softly. "Just talk to me. Were you having a nightmare or something?"

Adam doesn't answer at first. But when he does, he says, "Yeah, so? I have nightmares all the time! I'm perfectly fine! They're just dreams. I _know _they're not real." And Adam runs his hand through the dark hair that's sticking to his forehead. "Now, if you feel something wet and warm in the bed, it's _your _fault."

It almost takes all of Lawrence's self-control to not laugh at Adam, but even if he did laugh, it would be more of a pity laugh. They've been through so much hell that having nightmares and wetting the bed at night should actually be considered _normal. _Even at Adam's age. But Lawrence still doesn't laugh because he immediately knows what Adam will think if he does. Adam will go back into his own insecure shell, hiding and never letting anyone in. Lawrence knows he has to break that shell, has to bring Adam out so he actually has a chance of talking to him. And he knows it's not his own fault this time, anyways. Adam just needs someone to blame because he's probably tired of blaming himself. "I guess you don't _have _to tell me, Adam," Lawrence counters, trying once again to crack Adam's shell. "But if you don't need someone to talk to, if you don't need someone to comfort you, then why did you come in here? Why did you come to _me?"_

And Lawrence knows he's right, too. Adam must be really desperate for comfort if he's actually going to someone else for it.

Adam cuts his eyes at Lawrence, sighing. "You told me a lot about yourself in the bathroom, didn't you? About your family, about your job, about your life. Did I tell you anything about mine?"

Lawrence looks at the ceiling, thinking. "The only thing I recall you telling me is that one of your friends stabbed you with a rusty nail when you were six, and that your last girlfriend was a feminist vegan punk or something. Oh, and she broke up with you because she thought _you _were too angry. And you mentioned something about one of your toenails being slightly-"

"Yeah, yeah," Adam says with a dismissive wave of his left hand. "Yeah, that's a _ton _of details about my whole _entire _life." He laughs. "And those are probably the most interesting parts, though." He stares at Lawrence as he starts his story. Actually, it's more like he's staring at something past him, and for a sec Lawrence once to look over his shoulder to see if Adam's talking to someone behind him. He doesn't, though. "I was born in Phoenix."

"Arizona?"

"No, Phoenix, Wisconsin. _Yes, _Phoenix, Arizona. Before I was born, my mother Alice Faulkner had been raped, and that's how she'd gotten pregnant with me. What's ironic is...What's ironic is that whenever you're raped and you become pregnant, it's an accident. So I'm alive by an accident."

Lawrence purses his lips. "Usually mothers get abortions whenever they're raped and they get pregnant," he says. "So apparently your _mother _wanted you. What about your father? Did you ever meet him?"

"Yep," Adam says, nodding. "When I was eight. My mother told me that he'd died in a car accident, so I was as confused as hell when he showed up at our door. He said something about..." Adam scratches the back of his head. "...Wanting to build a relationship with his son, even if my mother didn't love him. Because he was still my father." And Adam starts to laugh, laugh like someone who's just come home from the dentist, laugh like someone who doesn't even know they're laughing.

And now Lawrence is confused. He arches one eyebrow, asking, "What's so funny?"

"My father was a _douchebag," _Adam chuckles, shaking his head. "He never wanted a _relationship _with me. He just wanted someone to exploit, to make his own self feel better. So he took me to his hotel-he'd moved to somewhere in California so he'd drove all the way to Phoenix-and at the time I didn't understand what he was doing to me. I understood a few years later, but...All I knew is that he was bigger than me so it hurt, it hurt a lot..."

"So he...?" Lawrence doesn't finish the sentence. He knows the answer.

"Yep, and that screwed me up a bit," Adam mutters. "I never told my mom about it, because I was afraid of what my father might do or say. But she found out. Because one day when my dad came back to Phoenix to _visit _me, when my mom was dropping me off at the hotel, I left my bag in the car, including a key to the room that my mom had gotten earlier from my dad. So my mom walked in on us. And my dad got arrested for sexually abusing me."

"At least he got arrested," is all Lawrence has to say. He doesn't really know how to respond to a man being raped, because usually, you hear women talk about it. And sometimes people think it only happens to women, but of course men can be raped as well.

"My mom kept moving us from city to city soon after that," Adam goes on. "We were very poor. So my mother scammed people to get money. She would pretend to choke on food in resturaunts, and my mother would go to the hospital. And the owners of the resturaunts felt responsible and they felt sympathetic when they found out how poor we were, so they sent us checks with outrageous numbers of money to help support us. I didn't quite understand this whole thing until I got older."

Lawrence's eyes widen. What a way to get money! "Did she ever get caught?"

Adam shakes his head. "No. She usually left me home when she went to do this. She left me with my babysitter, Sheena Carter. This went on for a couple years... And Sheena had problems. If I did even one minor thing wrong, she would beat me like an old blanket. I hated her _so much... _She was a bitch, and I should've told my mother about what she did to me..."

"But you didn't?"

"She found out about that too. I wanted to paint one day so I pulled out the black paint in my closet. So Sheena..." Adam doesn't speak for a moment. It's obvious that he's having a flashback in the back of his mind. "She got on top of me and started touching me in places...Hurting me...And she had black paint on her hands, so there were a ton of black handprints on me. She'd spilled the paint to make it look like I'd actually done it. I'd never actually opened the paint, so it wasn't my fault. And I fought her back, I clawed at her, but I couldn't stop her...But then my mom came home and there was no black paint on _my _hands. It was on Sheena's."

"Did she turn Sheena in?"

"No, she just kicked her out, which sort of surprised me. And after that, we moved to another city where we had to start over the whole choking routine again. The rest of school was a blur for me. I just remember doing pot behind the school at lunch time and a bunch of other crackheads like myself laughing like a bunch of dumbasses. For the longest time, I thought _they _were my best friends. But I don't remember any of their names. I don't even remember their faces. I never finished my senior year at school. I dropped out to take care of my mother."

Lawrence stares at Adam, nodding. "What was wrong with her?"

Adam snaps the rubberband against his wrist, as if telling the whole story's making him tired. "She had a tumor in her stomach. And we couldn't afford to go to the doctor. We didn't even have insurance, and I knew she wasn't going to make it anyways. She was never a very healthy woman. She was a drunk, and she smoked so much that I got high on cigarettes without even smoking them. Anyway, when I was seventeen, she died." Adam shivers and closes his eyes. "I was with her when she died." His voice shakes. "And after that, I didn't call the police. I just got into my mom's car and drove and drove. I don't know why. I guess I needed time to think... I guess I was so freaked out that she died...I drove until I finally just ended up here. Because it's in the city, not some stupid suburban neighborhood. I felt like I fit in better here. So I bought my apartment here and took a job as a voyeur. And then I met Alex."

Lawrence arches an eyebrow. "Who's Alex?"

"She's a drug addict I got paid to take pictures of... I found her in an alley. She was high when I found her, so I carried her back to my apartment. And when she woke up, that's when I found out she was homeless. So I felt guilty that I was taking pics of her. And I let her stay with me. At first she refused, because she thought I was just some pervert who wanted to get into her pants."

_Adam grabbed Alex's wrist, staring into the blonde woman's dark brown eyes. Alex kept trying to jerk away from him, but Adam's grip was too firm on her. "Alex, please!" Adam begged._

"I don't want to stay here anymore," Alex snapped ferociously."You're just trying to get me in bed like every other man. I'm not staying with you!"

"Alex, you don't have anywhere to go," Adam says. "And I want you with me. I want someone to be with me!"

Adam sighs. "And I guess she wanted to be with me. Because she stayed with me. We did have sex sometimes, but most of the time, it was cool just to hang out in my apartment. She and I would smoke together, drink together, and then pass out on the couch."

_Alex rested her head on Adam's shoulder. She looked into his eyes, still holding a lit cigarette. Adam smiled at her and Alex said, "You know, maybe I'll stay with you forever. We would be good together."_

Adam nodded and inhaled some of the smoke from his own cigarette. Exhaling the cloud of smoke, he replied, "Uh huh. I need something to keep me busy, after all."

"It's a shame you don't fuck that good," Alex teased, messing with Adam's hair. "It's going to be hard to keep me here."

"I'll do anything to keep you here, Alex."

"Okay, I'll have to take you up on that, man." Alex smirked.

"The thing about Alex is...that she slept a lot," Adam mutters softly. "All day, actually. Sometimes I would take second jobs and go one for half the day. She'd fall asleep around one o clock in the morning and wake up some time around three o clock in the afternoon. Then she'd eat and go back to sleep again. She started to do this in the year when I turned twenty. I found out that she'd been taking pills to get high, and one night after she took them, her heart gave out and she died." Adam rubs a fist against his eye and turns away. "She'd been with me for four years. She died a week after my twenty first birthday."

Lawrence looks down, silent. There's a lot more to Adam than he had realized. It's _not _his fault he's the way he is. He's been through a lot of shit, too much shit. And for a second, he looks at his own life. He looks at how great he has it. And he looks out how he screwed it up by cheating on his wife. All Adam wants is someone to stay with him. "I'm sorry," is all Lawrence can say, because what _can _he say?

"My dad got out about a year ago," Adam says quietly. "And he came to my apartment to ask me for forgiveness. He asked _me _for my forgiveness after he raped me and scarred me emotionally!" Adam lets out an incredulous laugh.

_"Adam," his father said, his eyes widening. "I know what I did was wrong. I had time to think in prison, and I know I never should've done that to you. I was never good to you, and all I want is to start over."_

And Adam was just sitting on his couch, blowing puff after puff of smoke out of his mouth each time he exhaled. "You had two fucking chances to forgive me," he countered, and he just flicks ash on the floor like it's no big deal. "You fucking raped my fucking mom and then you fucking raped me. You can forget my fucking forgiveness."

"I never meant it, and I've been able to get my life together." And his father was literally in tears, crestfallen at Adam's language. "If I'd known your life would turn out like this without me, then I..."

Adam interrupted him, shoving his cigarette in an ashtray. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, shut your fucking mouth," he muttered. "Are you saying that my life would've been better with you in it, you dumbass? My life's perfectly fine. I have my own apartment, and I don't have a fucking criminal like my mother watching over my back and moving me from place to place just to get money. I have my own home, and I have cigarettes. I have everything I've ever wanted. It's way better without you fucking here. Back then, when you raped me, you were just trying to distract me from all this. Now I know where I fucking belong, so you can take your chicken-ass out of here and never come back."

"I just want a relationship with you! Is that really something a father should have to ask for?"

"Yeah, when you're MY fucking father, you're gonna have to ask me if you want a relationship with me," Adam snapped, getting up and pointing an accusing finger at him. "What about my mom, huh? Were you ever going to have a fucking relationship with HER!" Adam pushed his father. "Take your ass out of here! You're not my father! I never had one!"

"I was an asshole to him, and all he wanted was my forgiveness," Adam whispers.

"I don't blame you for not forgiving him," Lawrence says, putting an arm around Adam's shoulder. "He ruined your childhood. I don't know if I would've forgave _my _father for doing that."

"It doesn't really even matter anymore. Jigsaw's coming to get me, and I'll go to hell just like my father will," Adam replies. "Jigsaw's going to come in here at any time and steal both of us away again." A shiver passes through his body and he closes his eyes again. When he speaks, his whiney voice is desperate. "I can't take it! I haven't slept but only a little, and I've barely eaten anything! It's hard to speak because I can barely hear all of my words, I can't think straight! _Help _me!"

"Whoa, calm down," Lawrence says. "You're going to be okay."

"I'm _not _going to be okay!" Adam snaps. "Jigsaw's here, he's in this hospital, and he's going to-" Adam's eyes widen again and the panicked breathing starts again.

_Oh God, he's having another attack! _Lawrence cries out, "Adam, take deep breaths! Okay? Are you listening to me or are you still freaking out?"

Adam breathes out deeply again, holding the hand that's over his shoulder. This one's not as bad as the last one, or at least this time Adam's ready for it. He only takes a few more seconds until he's breathing right again. Lawrence hears him swallow.

"There," Lawrence cooes, smiling a sad smile. "You're going to be okay. Jigsaw's not here. I'll protect you." He helps Adam lay down and strokes his cheek. He reaches over with the other hand to turn the light off, and it sort of sucks that he can't see him anymore, but he wants to make sure Adam gets to sleep.

After a few more seconds, the sound of Adam's soft breathing fills the room, and Lawrence breathes a sigh of relief. He rests his hand, but then he feels Adam stir beside him.

"Can...can you keep doing that?" Lawrence hears Adam say softly.

It surprises Lawrence. Surprises him because Adam actually wants him to do that, actually admits it. Lawrence starts stroking his cheek again.

Poor little child.

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DANANANANA RIOT! XD

Please R&R!

- 00OneX00


	5. Everyone Who Left Me

_**Heaven's A Lie  
By 00One X00  
Chapter 4: Everyone Who Left Me**_

**SawManiac211: **XD XD Oh my gosh, awww is like...The Golden Word.

**EmeraldDragon93: **I enjoy creating back-stories.

**xdannixxhx: **XD Thank you.

**IAmMadlyInLoveWithJohnnyDepp: **X3 I thought you might like the whole...stroke the cheeky thing. XD Yes, poor Adam. He has millions of fan-girls and he still doesn't get to be happy. _****_

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_Lock the door, Adam. You forgot to lock the door. _

Adam blinks himself awake as the voice in his head tells him about the unlocked door. He'd dozed off for a few seconds, much to his dismay.

_Go lock the door. Lock it before it's too late. Before he gets you._

"Fuck you," Adam mutters, getting up off of his couch and going to the door, locking both locks above the doorknob. Both Adam and Lawrence are discharged from the hospital now, and it's been about two months. But nothing's gotten any better for Adam. And of course it always gets better for Lawrence, the perfect, calm doctor guy who has nothing to fear anymore. Because he has a family who can help him get through the traumatic Jigsaw experience. They can be there for him.

And Adam has no one.

Everyone he had has left him.

Some way or another, everyone's gonna leave him eventually. Even Lawrence has left. Because he barely calls Adam. And he's back to his old doctor life. His old fucking doctor life where he cares about no one else.

_You have me, Adam, _the voice says. Adam looks at where it's coming from, sitting on his couch, smoking a transparent cigarette. _Besides, you loved me first, didn't you? I was here first. So you should do what I say and not trust that fucking Dr. Gordon. Because he left you like everyone else. Like your mother and your father. At least when I left, I came back._

"Shut up, Alex," Adam growls at his transparent girlfriend. He knows she's dead. But he still sees her, all the time. And she's right. _She _did come back for him.

_You need to listen to me, _Alex says. _Because Jigsaw could be in your apartment this very minute. After all, you did doze off for a few minutes. Long enough for him to sneak in. And if you open that closet again, he's going to get you again, Adam. _And Adam just wants to punch her now, to bash her fucking face in with his feminine fists. Because he knows she's right. She's always right.

_Look, don't be pissed at me, baby. Just get yourself armed, and you can kill anyone who comes through that door. Even that Dr. Gordon guy. Because he doesn't care about you, and he's just an extra in your life._

"I thought I told you to shut up," Adam snaps, going to the kitchen and getting himself a beer out of the refrigerator. He pops the lid off with his nail and sips it quickly, feeling it going down his throat, feeling it breathe life into him for at least a few minutes. It won't take much to get him drunk, since he weighs nothing. Because at least when he's drunk, he won't have to worry about Jigsaw. Hell, he'll just have to worry about throwing up everything he's eaten (which isn't much at all) and cleaning up the vomit afterwards.

_Don't drink, you moron, _he hears Alex retort. _ You have to be alert, you know. Because Jigsaw can easily steal you away if you're intoxicated. Take it from someone who's had more than her fair share of drinks._

"Let me just forget it," Adam mutters, sitting back on the couch, sipping more beer.

_Hey Adam, I just thought of something. Jigsaw can't take you if you're dead._

"So...you want me to..." Adam glances at a pocket knife that's resting on the kitchen counter.

And for a second, he can already imagine the blood flowing, dark red and warm on his skin, not being able to stop. Leaving a big gaping hole in him, making him turn so pale that his lips turn blue and his face totally loses color, making his breaths shake even though it's inevitable. Alex is right. Jigsaw can't take him if he's dead. Jigsaw can't put him through the bathroom a second time.

_Come on. You almost did it with the gun. Be a big boy. Just do it to the neck or your stomach and you won't have to wait very long._

"That's not a bad idea," Adam whispers softly.

And there's a knock at the door the next second.

Adam, taking another sip of beer, feeling it sink into his stomach, goes to the door and looks through the peephole.

And he immediately recognizes that dirty blonde hair and those blue eyes. He's wearing a white lab coat, and he's frowning, but that's to be expected.

Lawrence.

Adam unlocks the door, hearing Alex say behind him, _Adam, you idiot, Larry could be working for Jigsaw now! _But for once, Adam doesn't listen to her. He opens the door, looking up at Larry, and greets him, "Hey, man."

"Adam, are you all right?" Lawrence asks, his blue eyes widening with concern. "I tried calling you, but you didn't answer. Were you out or something?"

Adam purses his lips. He must've called when Adam was asleep. "I was just asleep," Adam says simply, no emotion impacting his voice, making it just a huge white, empty space. "For once. Now go home to your lovely wife and child." His voice isn't even _bitter. _It's just a voice, a high-pitched, sort of feminine voice with no edge behind it.

"And what do you mean by _that?_" Lawrence retorts, narrowing his eyes. "I came to check on you. I haven't heard from you in a few days, so I wondered if you were doing all right."

_So he waited for _you _to call, _Adam hears Alex mutter. And thank God Lawrence can't hear her.

"I'm perfectly fine," Adam replies icily. "In fact..." He glances at the pocket knife. "I've never been better."

_Come on, you asshole. Do it right now! He can't stop you if you do a thorough job. He won't be able to help you. Go ahead. It's right there._

And Lawrence plasters on that fake, awkward smile that he's perfected. That smile that he uses on every patient he takes care of. "Well, maybe I should stay for a few hours, just to make sure," he mutters. "I'm worried about you, you know, Adam."

_No, he's _not _worried about you. Come on. Rub it in his doctor face, Adam._

"Actually, I have plans," Adam says quietly, not meeting Lawrence's eyes with his own greenish gray gaze. "I'm... _going out._"

"Could I maybe come? You and I could have a few beers."

"No. You can't go where I'm going, Larry." Adam backs away into the kitchen, grabbing the pocket knife off of his counter. He takes the blade out of the slot and stares at it for a few moments. _Do it! Just do it! _Alex screams impatiently.

Adam sees Lawrence take a few steps in front of him. "Adam..." Lawrence stutters, reaching for him, his eyes widening. Unspoken thoughts flicker through them. "Adam, what are you about to do?" And it's not like he doesn't know what's about to happen. They both know.

"Jigsaw can't make me suffer in the bathroom if I'm dead," Adam replies, his palm sweating with the knife in his hand. He's going to do it. The knife's in his hand now, and he feels the power in his grip now. "I've out-smarted Jigsaw this time, Larry, and I know what I have to do. He can't toy with me anymore. He won't be constantly hovering over every thought I have."

_Yes, that's it. Wrap it up._

"Besides, I'm better off dead anyways," Adam goes on. "Because everyone who left me is dead."

"Adam, think about this-"

But he doesn't think about it.

There's no thinking about it anymore.

Because when you're adamant about what you're going to do, there's no stopping you anymore.

He's still adamant, even in that pool of blood he's in now. It's wet and warm on his fingers, dark red and menacing. The wound's just an agonizing, gaping slash in his stomach, and even if Adam puts his hand on it, it won't stop bleeding, won't stop running through his fingers and into the crevices of the kitchen tiles.

And those tiles are cold, but that just matches how Adam feels right now. Like a house that's just caved in, burnt down...

_"You moron!" _Adam hears Lawrence scream, or maybe it's not even Lawrence. Maybe it's someone else. Maybe it's his own conscience telling him how stupid this whole thing is, how he's doing just what Jigsaw wants him to do. Maybe he hasn't out-smarted Jigsaw after all.

The knife's not steady anymore, not powerful. It's loosely within Adam's grasp, and he loosens that grasp more with each second he's on the kitchen floor, bleeding his life out with his face losing color.

_You're doing good, Adam. Just a few more minutes._

Adam moans softly, looking at his blood-soaked hands. And then someone else's hands grab Adam's body. He hears his name being screamed, and he just wants to slap those hands away, those hands that go over his wound and pour a little more life into it, despite all the blood. And what bothers Adam the most...What bothers him is that he actually _likes_ it...

_Adam, stop him! Stop him right now! He's ruining this for you! This is what you wanted!_

You're right. This is what I wanted. This is what I wanted. This is what I wanted. This is what I fucking wanted!

Adam scarcely hears Alex now. His mind's being supressed into radio static, that kind when you're far out in the country and you're trying to listen to a song and it keeps fading static into another radio station. Annoying, sad, but true. Adam closes his eyes and listens to the static, not caring anymore.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Alex is such a BIIIIIIIITCH. XD And poor Adam. I love writing angsty-pain stuff, even when it's with Adam. XD

Please R&R!

- 00One X00


	6. Fragile Broken Glass

_**Heaven's A Lie  
By 00One X00  
Chapter 5: Fragile Broken Glass**_

**IAmMadlyInLoveWithJohnnyDepp: **XD Yep, it might be hard for chainshippers/Adam fangirls even if they knew that that chapter was coming. I'm pretty sure you're going to adore/enjoy the loving doctor stuff that's coming up... XD Ah, yes, the good old M-rating... XD I'm not telling you what's going to happen, but all I can say is... Girl, you gonna loooove it.

**XXErineilXX**: Oh, I'm sorry to hear that... I used to have it really bad, but I haven't had an attack in several years... XD I'm glad everyone still has enjoyment over the third chapter...

**xxdannixhxx (I hope I got that right... I'm too lazy to look at the reviews again right now...): **Yes, Alex is a bit of a bitch if she wants her _(former) _boyfriend to die. I mean, she's looking out for him, but she doesn't have to tell him to kill himself. Although, he's the one who went through it.

XD Okay, and just so you know, I'm doing the memories by my own memory... I'm trying to challenge myself in that way. But lucky for me, the first Saw is the one I know most of the lines to, so... I shouldn't really have a problem with it.  
**  
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_Lawrence heard the splash of water, the splash of water that seemed to be coming from the other side of the room. He raised his eye brows, scanning his eyes around in the dark, but all he could hear was the splashing and struggling and coughing on the other side of the room. And to think when he'd woken up five minutes ago and no one had answered his voice, there was really someone else on the other side of the room._

There was the sound of a soggy thud on the floor, followed by more sounds of fierce coughing. Had the person on the other side of the room almost drowned or something? Lawrence heard the cry of pain, like the person had gotten hurt falling or something.

And then there was rattling, the same sound of the chain attached to the shackle around Lawrence's foot. The rattling stopped for a few seconds after the sound of some footsteps. "Help!" a whiney, sort of high, feminine voice shouted. Lawrence didn't dare say anything, in case this was a trick. In case a serial killer was just trying to lure him into security. "Someone help me!" Lawrence stood up after a few seconds, the chain rattling in his wake.

The person was silent again for a moment before it asked, "Is someone there? ...Hey!"

Lawrence was thinking whether to tell the younger-sounding person it was going to be okay, that he was just on the other side of the room and that he was not an enemy. But the younger person could've been the person who put Larry in that room. "Oh, shit, I'm probably dead..." the younger person muttered after a few more chain rattles.

"You're not dead," Lawrence decided to blurt out, wrapping his arm around a thin, flimsy pipe next to the wall.

The younger person immediately shouted back, "Who's that?" The air suddenly spiked with a tense, ominous feeling. "Who's that?" the person demanded again.

"There's no point in yelling," Lawrence replied quietly, still trying to see the younger person in the darkness, but to no avail. "I already tried that."

"Turn on the lights!"

"I would if I could," Lawrence sighed, feeling around what... what felt like a tile, grimey wall, but finding nothing like a light switch yet.

"What the fuck is going on? Where am I?"

"I don't know yet." Lawrence felt himself shrug, even though he knew the other person couldn't see him do it. It was just a natural thing for him to shrug when he didn't know. And he figured he'd be shrugging a lot, since he really knew nothing about serial killers. If _a serial killer was even doing this to them. Maybe it was just some harmless prank by teenagers who had nothing else to do._

There was a very brief silence before the voice in the dark hissed in disgust, "What is that smell?" Lawrence tried to imagine someone sniffing and drawing back, their lip curling and their nose wrinkling.

Lawrence put one finger to his lip, another instinct he followed even though he knew he couldn't be seen. "Shh." He reached further along the wall until her felt... Something metal-like, something the felt like it could be a light switch or something. "Hang on a second. I think I found something."

He flipped the switch to its up position. Within a few split seconds, two rows of large, almost blinding white lights turned on. Lawrence covered his eyes for a moment, feeling them sting while they had to adjust to the change in lighting. He heard the groans of the other person across the room while they too tried to adjust to the light.

After a few more blinks, Lawrence was able to see straight, able to scan the room clearly. It appeared to be a large, industrial, over-used, tile bathroom. On one of the walls was a large mirror ruined by grime. Above it on the wall was a clock, totally fine, completely new. On the opposite of the room stood a young man chained to a pipe by his ankle, and behind him was a bathtub. Next to him was a toilet, and maybe that's where the repulsive smell of that room was coming from. That, and...

Lawrence looks at the center of the room. In the middle of the floor lay a bald man in a white T-shirt and boxers. He lay in a pool of blood, and his head looked like it had grotesquely been blown out by the magnum pistol in his left hand. In his right hand was a tape recorder, with a little loop-like thread tied to it.

The young man whispered, "Holy shit..." He blinked even more and glanced around the room, his eyes widening as he seemed to take in his surroundings. He turned to cough into his hands, and it looked to Lawrence for a second that he might throw up, but instead, he took one more look at the room, grasped his chain in his hands, and let out a scream. As if it would do any good, he yanked on the chain over and over, continuing to scream and cry out.

"Calm down... Just calm down," Lawrence said to him soothingly.

"What the fuck is this!" the younger man barked back to him. For the first time, Lawrence got a really good look at him. He looked like a drowned rat, all of his clothes wet and his very, very dark hair slicked back with water. He was a rather pale man, like he'd never gone outside a day in his life. His eyes were a weird color, not green, but not really gray either. Kind of a mix. He wore a bluish green over-shirt that looked a little too big for him. He wore a white T-shirt underneath it, and jeans that already looked dirtied by the floor. The younger man, who actually looked more like a kid than anything else, looked maybe nineteen or twenty years old. He was rather scrawny, looking like he didn't eat enough, like he never worked out.

He had that lost look on his face, like a kid who's just been abandoned in a mall. And he needed someone to help him get through this. Help him survive what was about to happen.

Lawrence sticks the small needle through Adam's skin after putting on gloves, staring at the gash on his stomach that streched from where his belly button sends to where it curves across his stomach and side and to where his back starts. And it's a good thing that Adam hadn't cut super, super deep, or the gash would've probably made him bleed to death.

He almost bled to death anyways.

Lawrence very carefully sews up the gash. He'd taken Adam to the hospital about an hour ago, and he'd refused to let any other doctors or nurses take care of him. Because he knows that he's the only who Adam trusts. Or maybe trusts. Because Adam... Sometimes Adam's unpredictable like that.

It seems like it happened only a few seconds ago.

Adam ripping the knife through his skin, screaming until he just couldn't take the pain, so he'd taken the knife out of his skin, backed up into the kitchen counter and fallen on the floor into a small pool of blood. Even when Lawrence had screamed at him, he looked too delirious to respond, too out of it to do anything.

And what Lawrence hates the most is how colorless Adam's face had gone, how white his face had become, how blue his lips had become, how even though his eyes were open, he wasn't really Lawrence's Adam anymore. He was just a kid whose pale arms had been wet and slippery with blood. And he'd always known that Adam was small, but as he lay there, struggling to breathe, to stay awake, he'd never looked so scrawny.

Adam just lays there on the hospital bed now, calm and peaceful once with those dark circles under his eyes. Lawrence wipes the sweat off of Adam's forehead after he's done stitching him up.

_Why the hell would you do this? _Lawrence demands Adam silently. _What made you think that that was actually a good idea, you idiot? _Lawrence's mouth is dry from these words he can't verbalize until Adam is awake, until Adam gives him that Adam Scowl, until he's ready to roll his eyes.

And part of Lawrence wants to slap Adam upside the head and tell him how wrong he is, how he could've died. But the other part wants to cry, wants to wrap his arms around Adam and cry into his shirt, wants to tell him how scared he was.

He'd never been so scared for anyone in his life besides his own wife and child.

_"Would you like to see her?" Lawrence asked Adam about his Diana, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. Thankfully, Jigsaw hadn't taken that from him. At least he would have some pictures of his family to help keep him calm for a little longer. Lawrence carefully tossed the wallet over to Adam. Adam grabbed the wallet with one feminine hand and opened it, with the other hand wrapped around the pipe he was chained to._

Lawrence smiled, and in a few seconds, he heard Adam say, "She's beautiful."

"Thank you."

"You gonna have any more kids?" Adam added, grinning that extremely cute grin of his.

"Oh, we've talked about it," Lawrence sighed, thinking about it a bit before answering. "But with our schedules, it's... It's difficult enough to concentrate on one."

"So, where's the... lucky wife?"

"There's another picture behind the one you're looking at." He watched Adam dig through the wallet. "It's my favorite one, because we're all in it together. Someone... usually me... has to hold the camera, which means I'm always missing from the photos." Lawrence let out a hollow, empty laugh.

Adam said nothing for a moment. He just stared at the wallet for a few seconds. Seeing a weird look on Adam's face, Lawrence's smile faded. And he was sure... He was sure for a second Adam did something with his hand. Adam stuttered, "It's, uh... It's not here."

"What?"

"Ahh, this photo you're talking about's not here."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." And for a second, Adam almost seemed a little jumpy. He shifted to another sitting position and then tossed the wallet back to Larry.

Lawrence looked through the wallet, seeing all the photos of his family, but whenever he looked for that one photo... Adam was right. It was gone. "H-he must've taken it," Lawrence decides, frowning. What a downer. But that raised one question. Why would Jigsaw want a picture of his family?

Lawrence grabs a chair from the other end of the room and sits it by the bed, still looking at Adam out of the corner of his eye the whole time. He holds his head in his hands, wanting to cry, but he's not going to. The strange thing is that he actually considers Adam a part of his family now.

He pulls the blanket further over Adam, leaving Adam's arms beneath it. Why is Adam like this? Lawrence knows, but he just keeps asking himself. Why is Adam like this?

He's just a fragile little boy, so fragile that he's like glass. If you drop him, if you're not careful at all, he _will _break into pieces and you'll lose him. You'll lose sight of everything he is. And right now, Adam's broken into so many shards that Lawrence doesn't know if he'll ever be able to repair him now.

_Lawrence pounded the tile floor with one fist, holding the cell phone in the other. He wanted to scream so loud, wanted for Jigsaw to just walk into the bathroom so he could strangle him to death. He'd never wanted to kill someone so much._

"...Are they okay?" Lawrence heard Adam ask him quietly, and Lawrence flinched. For a moment, he'd totally forgotten Adam was there.

Lawrence took his head from off of the floor, saying quietly, "My wife... she, uh... She mentioned your name..."

"What did she say?" And he acted so innocent, like the little kid he is.

"She told me..." Lawrence swallowed. "She told me not to believe you."

"...Believe me about what?"

And Lawrence had to take a deep breath just to keep his anger under control. He could feel his blood boiling underneath his skin as he fought to keep his rage inside. "She told me... you knew me." For the first time in a few minutes, Lawrence actually looked at Adam. And it wasn't actually a glare. It was more of... an icy look. And when Adam just looked down and didn't respond, Lawrence stood up from the floor, fire burning in his icy blue gaze. "Who are you?"

Adam kept on going with his Small Innocent Little Kid Sitting on The Floor look. "You know who I am," he replied softly.

Lawrence nearly ripped his hair out. "STOP THE LIES!" he shouted back to Adam. "YOU'RE A LIAR! I NEED TO KNOW THE TRUTH!" And the sad thing is, it wasn't like he could just run over to Adam and strangle the truth out of him.

_Adam didn't speak for a few moments. He wouldn't look at Lawrence anymore. He opened his mouth to speak, but for a second now words came out. "I'm a liar?" he finally countered. He immediately returned Lawrence's icy stare, and suddenly, he wasn't just the same little kid on the other end of the bathroom. He was the little kid who kills the parents in horror movies. "What did you do last night, Lawrence? Work at a hospital, saving sick children? You told me that after you left your house last night that you went to work at a hospital."_

"That's because it's the truth!" Lawrence snapped back.

"No it's not." And in the most sarcastic, cold voice, Adam went on, "Your wife is right, Larry."

Lawrence stared past Adam, half-listening to him and half-listening to the blood that was roaring in his ears.

Lawrence fidgets around with his fingers. Maybe... Maybe one of the reasons he got so upset about Adam's truth was because he trusted the little kid. He had trusted the little kid he thought needed his help, thought needed fixing. And it was hard to think that he couldn't trust him after that. Because Adam needs him. More than Allison and Diana need him.

Because whenever he saw that helpless kid grabbing his shoulder, grabbing his wrist to make him stay, yelling his name, he knew immediately that Adam belonged to him.

As Lawrence watches Adam's chest rise up and down, making sure that it stays in that motion, he still knows it. As Lawrence fingers his way to finding Adam's hand, he still knows it. "Oh, Adam..." Lawrence murmurs. And since Adam is Lawrence's now, he has to find a way to repair that broken glass, has to glue it or tape it or do _something _to put that broken glass back together again. Lawrence strokes the sweaty hand, the sweaty hand that's cold despite the sweat.

Lawrence leans in towards Adam's face, moving some of the dark hair out of it. He leans in further until his lips meet Adam's and he strokes his face with one hand. _Adam, when you wake up, I'm going to help you, _Lawrence decides. _I'll always be there to help you when you break._

You're a cheater.

Lawrence nearly jumps out of his own skin when the small voice in the back of his head says that. And it's in his own instinct to glance around the room, like he's just been caught.

_Allison is good to you._

Lawrence just wants it to shut up. Because... Because maybe Ally isn't right for him. Maybe he wants a divorce, maybe he loves someone else.

_"How can you go through life pretending that you're happy?" Allison barked at Larry as the two of them walked towards the door._

"I am _happy," Lawrence replied simply, in a lighthearted tone to emphasize the happiness._

"That is complete bullshit," _snapped Allison back to him. "I'd rather you break down and tell me you hated me. At least there'd be some passion in it."_

Lawrence grabbed his keys off of the keyholder that was hanging right next to the door. He faced his wife, and suppressed an exasperated sigh. "We'll talk about this later, okay?" he said to his wife softly. And whenever he leaned in to kiss her cheek, Allison turned her head away.

"Just leave," she whispered, shaking her head. Lawrence stared at her disdainfully before opening the door and leaving his house.

Would Adam tell Lawrence to just leave?

Well... how will Larry know unless he tries?

_Don't get ahead of yourself, _he tells himself suddenly. _You don't know if Adam feels the same way._

But even if Adam doesn't feel the same way, he still needs someone to be there for him.

Lawrence kisses Adam's forehead for a very long time before he feels some movement underneath him. He breaks his kiss from Adam and looks into those greenish gray eyes that make him blush. Immediately, he feels his skin boil, so he says, "Whatever you do, _don't _sit up. Your stitches will come undone."

Adam's eyes widen and he feels his forehead. "Wh-what just... What's going on here where am I!" And he says it so fast that it's all one sentence. And for a moment, he sounds just like he did whenever they first met.

"It's all right, Adam," Lawrence replies softly, ruffling Adam's dark hair. "Do you remember what you did, Adam?" And if he doesn't remember, Lawrence doesn't want to tell Adam. Why make him suffer more than he already is?

Adam doesn't answer at first. He just feels his stomach underneath his hospital gown and he stares at Lawrence. "I did that..." he murmurs, seeming to remember. "I did that to myself, didn't I..."

Lawrence looks at his feet. Because what can you say to someone like Adam? Say, "Yep, you went all schizofrenic and paranoid and decided to kill yourself so Jigsaw wouldn't get you, which is, by the way, kinda stupid"? No.

So instead Lawrence says, "It's going to be all right. I'm going to nurse you back to health, and if Jigsaw comes, you'll always know that I'll protect you. I promise."

"What if I don't want _your _help?" Adam snaps, scowling. "What if I just want to leave this fucking hospital right now?"

Lawrence sighs. "You won't get very far."

Adam seems to think for a few moments. "Okay, but one more question. What was the _kiss _for, man?"

"I... I want to be there for you, Adam," Lawrence says. "But I can be there in other ways if you want me to be... I can just be your doctor, if you want me to..."

"I didn't say I didn't like it," Adam interrupts him quietly. "Lawrence, why did I do that...?"

"You mean... hurt yourself?"

"Yeah."

"I guess it's because you were afraid. But... there's no need to be afraid anymore, Adam. I'm here for you. You don't have to worry."

Adam stifles a smirk. "You probably know what I want now."

Lawrence sighs and rolls his eyes playfully. He puts one hand on Adam's face and strokes his cheek, the way Adam likes it. The way it almost makes Adam fall asleep. "Why do you like that so much, hm?"

Adam shrugs. "I don't know. It feels good, I guess."

"You know what? You're like a child. And children need to be taken care of properly." Lawrence kisses Adam's forehead.

"That's not all I want," is Adam's only response, reaching for Lawrence face with his small, beautiful hands. He pulls it towards him and kisses him softly on the lips over and over, until he finally fights his tongue inside and it plays with Lawrence's for a few seconds. But when Adam feels him starting to pull away, he murmurs, "No, no, no, please..."

"Adam, this _isn't _right!" Lawrence snaps, getting up off of his chair completely and turning away. Adam sits up halfway, his pillow against the top of his back and the bottom of his neck, his odd gaze widening. What's he talking about?

"What do you mean?" Adam asks.

"You _know _what I mean. I'm a married man, and I have a daughter. I can't be... cheating on my wife for... for..."

"For the likes of _me?" _Adam finishes for him, not looking at him.

"That's not what I was going to say," Lawrence replies in a softer tone.

"Yes, it was." And Adam's using that same tone he did whenever he told Lawrence The Truth.

"For fuck's sake, Adam, don't make this about _you!" _Lawrence shouts, turning to face him again.

"I'm a part of this, too, Lawrence!"

"Believe me, Adam, if I had my way, I would choose you instead."

"Then choose _me. _Screw Allison."

Larry stares at Adam for a few seconds before answering, "Adam... if we want to do this... Can we keep it secret? Just until I figure out how to tell Ally?"

Adam shrugs. That's better than her walking in on them and then throwing a hissy fit, he guesses. "All right then."

Lawrence smiles a tiny bit. "Good, I'm glad you agree with that," he replies, sitting back down in the chair.

"And now you know what I want."

"Yes, I do." Lawrence kisses Adam's lips again, and he feels Adam fight his tongue back into his mouth again. Lawrence runs a hand through Adam's hair, feeling the cold sweat, feeling how warm Adam actually gets after a few more seconds.

Adam doesn't mind sharing this feeling anymore. Because in all actuality, for him, it's the best feeling in the world. And because he's already kissed Lawrence before. Because he doesn't mind kissing Lawrence. Because whenever he kisses Larry, a feeling of warmth spreads through his body, and he can feel it all the way to his fingers.

_Lawrence grabbed Adam's arm with one hand, and the heavy, red-with-blood toilet lid fell from Adam's grasp. It's amazing that Adam was even able to bring his arms up and down, swinging that lid, with that bullet wound in his shoulder. Lawrence watched as Adam clutched his shoulder, crying out, his breath shaking. And even though what Adam was suffering wasn't nearly as bad as what Larry was suffering, even though he wasn't as white as untouched snow, even though he wasn't going to bleed to death, he was still suffering, and that wasn't fair to the little kid Lawrence was supposed to heal._

"You're g-gonna be all right," Lawrence assured him, and he tried to catch Adam's eye, but Adam was still sobbing. "You're just w-w-wounded in the sh-sh-shoulder..."

He saw Adam nod. Nod, because maybe he believed in Lawrence. Maybe he believed that somehow Lawrence could magically rip the chain off of the pipe.

But even Lawrence didn't believe himself. One foot was missing, he was leaking blood, so what else could he tell Adam? Say, "Sorry, you're probably not gonna get out of here. Maybe you shouldn't have broken the hacksaw"? No.

So all he told him next was, "I h-have to g-g-go and g-g-get help... If I d-don't get h-h-help... I'm going to b-b-bleed to death..."

"No," Adam replied, shaking his head, pulling on the sleeves of Lawrence's white shirt. "Don't leave me!" he begged in the most pitiful voice Larry thought could even come out of Adam. Where was the boy who had screamed at him eight hours ago, "My name is Very Fucking Confused! What's your _name!"? Where was the defensive, impatient child? He just gave Lawrence that needy, disdainful stare._

Lawrence didn't know if he could assure Adam anything at that moment. So he just put one of his blood-stained hands on Adam's cheek. Adam was so close to his face, so close that he could feel him breathing, feel his sweet breath.

And suddenly he knew.

He knew that he would have _to come back for Adam._

As he stared into Adam's perfect eyes, he knew.

Because he fell in love.

As he watched Adam tremble with his damp hair sticking to his forehead, he knew.

Lawrence leaned forward and kissed Adam on his lips, and he was relieved whenever Adam didn't try to pull away or hit him or anything like that. Because maybe Adam felt the same way. Lawrence kissed him over and over again. He wanted to just stay like this forever, just to kiss Adam's perfect lips over and over.

But he still had one more thing he had to see.

He had to know what happened.

Had to know if Allison and Diana escaped from Zep after all, if the neighbors had heard the gunshots and come over to help them.

Or if both of them were lying on their backs in Larry's house, blood dotting their pajamas.

So Lawrence began to crawl away from Adam, even though Adam grabbed his wrist and started yelling, started crying for him to stay. The crying out broke off him Adam sobbing pathetically, so Lawrence looked back at him and murmured, "Don't w-w-worry... I'll br-br-br-bring someone back... I p-promise..."

Adam moaned and didn't answer back. He just watched Lawrence make his way to the door, tears in his eyes. But as soon as Lawrence reached a pipe in the corner of the room near the door, Adam shouted, "Lawrence!"

Lawrence wrapped his arms around the dirtied pipe and dared to look back at Adam.

"We're gonna be okay?"

"I wouldn't lie to you," Lawrence said clearly.

And he hadn't lied to him.

Because now, it's starting to be okay again.

Lawrence's phone vibrates in his pocket and he lets go of Adam for a moment, watching his boy sit halfway up again. Lawrence reaches for his phone, and while feeling the vibration, he feels something else in his pocket.

Paper, folded up into a neat square.

Before Lawrence takes the paper out, he takes his phone out first, sitting all the way back up in the chair. "Hello?"

"Larry, when are you coming home? Diana's ballet recital starts in twenty minutes. You're seriously not going to miss that so you can hang out with Adam, are you?" Lawrence stifles an exasperated sigh at his wife's prison ward voice. Because he knows if he chooses to sigh, it'll turn into some big fight. Has anyone but me noticed that the wives _always _seem to win the fights anyways?

"There was an incident and Adam had to go to the hospital," Lawrence replies, glancing at Adam, who narrows his eyes. "I don't mean to be late, Ally... I promise."

And Allison doesn't respond for a few seconds. "How do I know you're telling the truth?" she blurts out suddenly. Her voice quivers. "Why are you doing this to me again?"

Lawrence's voice quivers as well. "A-Allison, have you lost all trust in me?" he asks quietly, and he feels Adam shift on the bed.

"No, I-I'm just being stupid." She lets out a laugh. "Please, if you can, just be here. You haven't been able to see any of Diana's recitals yet, and she really wants her daddy to come. I love you, Larry."

Oh, now why'd she say _that?_

Adam's sitting right next to Larry, so he feels like he's pressured, feels like the walls of the hospital room are about to close on him, about to crush him. What should he say? Like an idiot, he just sputters, "Okay!" and hangs up quickly. Seriously, you would've never seen a human being hang up a phone that fast.

"That was Allison?"

Larry looks at Adam and then looks away. "Yeah. Listen, Adam... My daughter has a ballet recital..."

"Oh, girl shit." Adam waves his hand dismissively. "Go ahead, go be with your daughter." He smirks. "I'm sure it's far more interesting than making out with someone like me."

"Actually, I'd rather be here right now."

"But you can't be. Because I told you to go to Diana's recital. Besides, you're keeping me awake, and I'm tired as hell."

"I didn't know hell was tired."

"Well, now it is. Now go to her recital before I beat you with a stick."

"I'd like to see you try," Larry teases his Adam. "I'll be back later, all right?" He ruffles Adam's perfectly dark hair with his left hand and puts his cell phone in his pocket. And whenever he's made his way to the door, he stops to think. And he turns to look at Adam. "I love you, Adam." And he's blushing so much that he doesn't wait for an answer. He doesn't imagine that Adam will answer anyways.

Then he remembers the paper he found in his pocket whenever he was reaching for his pocket. Maybe it's just some chart he'd stuffed in there again. He pulls it out of his pocket to examine it.

And the first thing he sees, without even opening it, makes his heart skip a beat.

And normally, a note like this wouldn't scare him.

Ok, so it just says,_ Dr. Gordon. _And he's found notes on his desk like this before.

What's drawn above the sharpied letters is what makes his breath shake.

It's a poorly drawn jigsaw piece.

And he doesn't want to open the note.

But he does anyways.

_Watch what's most important to you, Dr. Gordon._

Lawrence whirls around and stares back at Adam's hospital room door. It's closed, and no one came out of it. Right? So Adam should still be inside.

Right?

_Adam'sstillinsideAdam'sstillinsideAdam'sokayAdam'sokay_

Lawrence tells himself that over and over as he runs back to the door and swings it open.

And the first thing he looks at is the shattered window, and he wonders, _Why did I get him a room on the first fucking floor!_

And then he looks at the hospital bed.

Adam is gone.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

CLIFFHANGER! WAHAHA! XD I just love those two. And soon... Dr. Gordon will work his smexy doctor magic. :D And I _know _they really didn't kiss in the movie... But... IN MADISON'S WORLD THEY DID! XD Because in _my _world, Adam and Larry skip through a field of flowers holding hands and singing show tunes.

Well, not really.

What?

I'm not creepy.

Come on, don't pretend like you don't want that to happen. You know you do.

Anyways, I'm going to go yell at my dog to stop her yapping while I'm trying to type. You children have fun. XD

Please R&R!

- 00One X00__

__


	7. Wasn't the First

_**Heaven's A Lie  
By 00One X00  
Chapter 6: Wasn't the First**_

Guys, there's no way I can make personal review responses... T.T I'm not connected to the internet because we're getting it fixed... So all I can say is thank you for reviewing. XD Sorry guys.

And now, I'm going to ask that thing I always do. Ask for more fic ideas. XD Because obviously, this one isn't going to last forever. **So PLEASE in your next review, and I mean, PLEASE give me another AdamXLawrence fic idea.** I'm braindead... XD

And as for the cliffhanger... XD I love leaving people hanging.

By the way, think of the room Allison and Adam are caged in just like the room Tara, Brent, and Pamela were caged in in Saw VI. X3 Except it's down in a sort of tunnel in some sort of secret door. You'll see what I mean.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Lawrence wants to throw up.

He wants to throw up. There's no way he can hold it down anymore, as he looks at the shattered window, as he looks at the broken glass all over the floor in front of it. The broken, blood-stained glass that's just as fragile as Adam.

That's another reason he wants to throw up. There's blood all over the glass. He can see that small little body swinging his fists around, screaming, see Jigsaw grab a piece of glass and quiet him with it...

_Adam's already dead Adam's already dead Adam's already dead_

That thought flashes through Lawrence's head like lightning suddenly striking a tree. That lightning has struck him so rapidly that he can't even move. He just holds that Jigsaw note in his hands, his trembling hands.

_He's not dead. He can't be dead. _That's right. Adam can't be dead, because he was just here.

Christ.

Lawrence allows himself to breathe out a long, relaxing sigh.

Because Jigsaw doesn't kill people.

Jigsaw just puts them in his own sick fucking games.

That means Lawrence still has a chance to find him. He still has a chance to save Adam from having to play his game, has a chance to wrap his arms around that thin, small waist and to kiss those perfect lips.

_Okay, okay... _He crumples up the note, bites his thumb, and walks over to the bed. As he expected, there's a note on the pillow, similar to the way you would find a mint on a pillow in a hotel. Like the other one, it has a poorly drawn jigsaw piece on it and it says, _Dr. Gordon. _Lawrence quickly grabs it, unfolds it, and reads it.

_By reading this note, you've found out that Adam is missing. You've found out that he's going to be forced into anoher test. And before I tell you what you must do, I must tell you why he's being tested._

He's a selfish and sorry voyuer who still hasn't learned to value his life. I'd sent someone to watch him in his apartment this week. So I know what Adam did to himself. He must do his homework and learn that you only get one life. You only get one chance. So we'll just see what happens.

As for you, Dr. Gordon, I know that you love Adam. Have you learned anything at all? Do you still love Allison? Or do you love Adam? Today that way of thinking will be put to the test. I have both Allison and Adam under containment. You will have three hours to complete a series of tests and to save them.

They are breathing in a toxic nerve gas right now that will in approximately three hours kill them. So you'd better hurry, Dr. Or if you choose to ignore these tests, I'm sure you could find someone else. You tend to do that a lot, now don't you, Dr. Gordon?

Your tests begin in the same house you crawled out of to get help for Adam, the house you nearly bled to death in. You will be able to find your tests if you... follow your heart again. Let the games begin.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX__

"Adam, wake up. Wake up."

He can almost feel Alex's imaginary hands shaking his shoulders. And without even opening his eyes, Adam can see that worried look on her face, imagine those brown eyes huge the way they used to be whenever Alex wondered if she was pregnant.

Adam moans and turns his head to the side, and he's not really even awake yet. His eyes are heavy with sleep and they water every time he has to yawn and tell himself to go back to sleep.

Because everything's okay now.

_Lawrence left you at the hospital, _he reminds himself halfheartedly. _He went to watch Diana's ballet recital with Allison. He promised you that he'll be back to take care of you later. He'll be back to stroke your face again the way you love him to. And after he left, you fell asleep._

"No you didn't! _You were _forced _to fall asleep! Adam, your hands and your stomach cut are bleeding. And you're not lying in a bed." _Alex pauses. _"What is that fucking smell?"_

Adam's greenish gray eyes pop open, suddenly aware that Alex is right. He's _not _on the hospital bed anymore. There's no soft pillow under his head, no thin blanket over him. His normal clothes are back on. His hands _are _wet and sticky with warm blood, and they sear like the time he'd been making eggs and he'd burned himself on the skillet.

His side is also warm and sticky. Fuck, his stitches have come undone a little. Adam fingers under the shirt that's sticking to his side and finds the stitches. They're like a little zipper, and if that zipper is unzipped, all that blood will pour out again. The ground will no longer be steady. Adam jerks his hand away from the zipper holding him together and he stands up in the dark.

His stomach flips as soon as she gets up, and he staggers to the side, feelings around for something to hold him up. He grabs cold, rusty metal bars. _What... what the hell? _Adam grips the bars and feels around for his hand to reach more of them. They're all around him in a square. He's in a cage, just like a fucking zoo animal.

Adam's stomach flips again, and he can already feel the vomit and bile rising up in his throat. His belly flutters quickly as he tries to keep it in, but it's no use. He lets his lunch go on the cold, unforgiving floor. That fucking sour taste of vomit mixed with undigested Cheerioes still rests on his tongue and his lips, so he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

That's when he feels the metallic taste of blood in the back of his throat.

Adam slides down against the bars and leans forward. For a second, he wonders if he's going to throw up again, but then his body quivers as he hacks up blood on the floor, the concrete cold under the sweaty palms holding him up. _What's going on? Where am I? What the fuck is wrong with me? _Adam sits back up against the bars, feeling his sweaty forehead. "Hello?" he calls, and then flinches, surprised at how weak his voice rasps. "Is anybody there?"

"Who's that?"

Adam flinches again. _Calm down, it's just a woman's voice, _he soothes himself. _Don't freak out. Stay calm._

"That's right," says Alex. _"Don't give any information unless you have to."_

"Who's _that?_" the woman calls again, this time sharper. The voice must be coming across the room, because it doesn't sound very far away. Before Adam can even answer, she says, "I'm Allison Gordon. I'm not your enemy. I'll help you if I can."

So it's Allison. Adam's never met her in person before, so he has no idea what she looks like, and vice versa. _"Don't tell her who you are!" _Alex snaps, Allison shifts on the other side of the room, and Adam wants to strangle Alex. _I'll do whatever the fuck I want, _he tells her mentally.

"Are you going to answer me or not?"

"Turn on the lights!" Adam demands, but nearly jumps out of his skin whenever he hears the click of... what he thinks is a door opening and closing.

"Only _I _can turn on the lights," a third, very different voice responds. This one too is a woman's voice, but it has a sinister, mocking edge to it that makes Adam's skin crawl disdainfully. This _third person _is _not _here to help them, and Adam can already tell that just by the one sentence she says.

Without warning, the light flickers on. In immediate response, Adam covers his eyes, but thankfully, they aren't as bright and white as the ones in the bathroom. They're more of a dim yellow color. After blinking a few times, Adam's able to adjust his eyes to the light. He stares at the gorgeous, blonde-haired, rich Allison, who's sweating her mascara off but is otherwise unharmed. She's sunken into one of the corners of her own rusty cage and she stares back at Adam with wide blue eyes.

The cages are about five feet apart, with a little path between them that someone could use to get to a rusty door. There's another door way on the other side of the room with someone in a long red coat standing by it with their hand on a light switch.

The third person in the room is _not _in a cage. Her hair is dark, short, and very choppy like a way some sort of rockstar groupie chick would cut it. She's a skinny woman, with arms similar to Adam's that you could snap like a twig if you tried to. Her eyes are a dark, chocolatey brown and her skin is tan compared to Adam and Allison's skin. She's just standing there, smirking such a mocking smirk with her tight, thin, red lips.

"Hello, Adam. Hello, Allison."

Adam's skin is still crawling. He swallows and supresses a whimper. Because, truthfully, what he really wants to do is to break down on the floor, sobbing, begging the woman to let him go, beg him, please, please, let him go. But there's no point in doing that. There's no way that he's going to show that he needs any help anyways.

Adam's too proud to let himself do that.

When neither Adam nor Allison reply, the woman goes on, "Welcome to another game. My name is Amanda, and I'll be watching over you until Dr. Gordon gets here, if he _does _get here, that is."

"Wh-what do you mean, if he _does _get here?" Adam finally asks, his voice cracking. God, he _hates _that. The weakness is already starting to show. His shell is already starting to crack.

"Oh, _Adam,_" the woman chuckles, walking over to Adam's cell and pressing her face against the bars. "You're so cute. The way you worry about Larry, the way your eyes get all big whenever I mention him." She reaches through the bars and puts one hand on Adam's cheek. "Don't worry. He's safe."

Adam immediately slaps her hand away from his face, but Amanda remains unfazed. She laughs, "You're so fucking stupid. Look, I don't want to keep you in here. I like you, Adam. But the man you know as Jigsaw... he _doesn't _like you. So, unfortunately, you and Allison have to stay in those cells." She reaches into her coat pocket and pulls out a TV remote. Adam whirls around, noticing a small TV on a small wooden desk. Why hadn't he noticed that before? Amanda turns the TV on, revealing a black and white, dark hallway on the screen.

"What's that for?" Adam asks as she turns on four other TVs, two of which are in Allison's cell as well. He stares at what the screens have on them and whispers, "What are you going to make them do?"

"This is so stupid..." he hears Allison add. "Complete bullshit." And she nods, like she's actually trying to convince herself and she's not talking to anyone else.

"Both of you, shut up," Amanda commands them, glancing back and forth between them. She's still smirking her tight-lipped smirk. Unspoken thoughts of sheer amusement flicker into her brown eyes as she speaks. "Dr. Gordon is going to go through a series of tests. He has three hours to complete these tests. If he doesn't complete them..." Amanda uses both index fingers to point to two air vents, one for each cell, that are on the ceiling. "...You will slowly bleed to death from the inside."

Allison stares up at the vent in her cell, narrowing her eyes. "It's just air."

"Bitch, it's _not _just air. You're both breathing in a toxic nerve gas. Which means, you only have about three hours to live, maybe even less, depending on how weak both of you are. Here's the catch. Only one of you may leave here. You'll see why later."

"Tell us why now!" Adam snaps. Oh, how he wants to break through the bars and rip her fucking head off, crack her skull, do _something _to her so that she'll stop breathing, stop tormenting them. But there's nothing he can do. It's a shame the only thing holding him back from commiting murder is a cell of rusty iron bars.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Amanda replies softly. "Jigsaw wouldn't have that. I mean, it's against the rules. I'll tell you what the rules are, though." She pulls a magnum pistol out of the back of her black jeans and points it at Adam, and then at Allison. Adam shivers.

The last time he'd seen a gun was when Lawrence...

No. He's not going to think about that now.

That place in Adam's mind that not even _he _walks into unless he _needs_ to.

"Rule Number One," Amanda begins. "No screaming and/or crying. It hurts my ears and it's seriously futile at this point to scream or cry anyways. I mean, no one can hear you scream and crying won't get you out of here, so it's a waste of time."

_"Like you're going to scream anyways," _mutters Alex. _"You're far too proud to do that. But maybe you can get some enjoyment out of that Allison bitch if she starts bawling like a little brat."_

_Be quiet._

"Rule Number Two. Even though you're in this cage, I can still harm you. After all, I'm the one with the gun and you're not. So here's the actual rule itself: Do what I say, and you'll make this experience much less painful."

_"She won't do it."_

"Rule Number Three. If you start to die, I can't help you. Sorry, you're going to have to tough it out as long as you can." Amanda grins, exposing perfectly straight, horrid, white teeth. Amanda's got to be some sort of Twilight vampire. Because as she glances at Adam, her grin gets even wider, like she knows what he's thinking somehow.

_Don't hurt Lawrence. Don't hurt Lawrence. Don't hurt Lawrence._

Adam flinches whenever Allison speaks. For a second, he'd totally forgotten she's still there. "You're just a crazy serial killer," she mutters, her fists grabbing the bars. "Nothing more, nothing less. When the cops find out you kept us here-"

"They barely did anything the last time, and they won't do anything now," Amanda interrupts her, turning to face her, chuckling again, and for a second, Adam wonders if she's The Joker and not Heath Ledger. "Sure, they came to help you, they came to help your husband, they came to help Adam-" She gestures towards Adam with the gun. "-but they didn't really do _anything, _now did they? The detectives promise time and time again to catch crazy serial killers like Jigsaw and I, but they don't catch them until lots of _'important lives' _are already long gone."

Allison rolls her eyes, but Amanda just keeps talking.

"As for doctors, they tell you it's going to be okay, but what else are they supposed to tell you? _'Sorry, your cancer has spread throughout your body and you're going to die. We tried to do everything we can.' _And even _when _they tell you you're going to die, they tell you it's going to be okay. But it _won't _be okay."

_"She just keeps talking and talking," _Alex growls, rolling her transparent eyes just like Allison did. _"Adam, say something to shut her up, for the sake of all that's good and pure in this world. You're not going to let her talk to you like that, are you?"_

"Life is life, and you need to face the fact that some day you're going to die. It could be in ninety years, twenty years, five weeks, or in three hours. That's why you must choose to value it, otherwise you don't deserve to live-" She stops as Adam lets out an exasperated sigh. "Adam, is there something you want to share?"

_Hmph, you sound more like my fifth grade teacher than a serial killer now, Amanda. _He lets out a hollow laugh and looks at her. But as soon as he looks away...

The memory flashes in front of his face like a projector in the back of his mind.

Adam had come out of his apartment, fliers in his hands. He'd walked down the stairs and seen a woman with dark, choppy, spikey hair-

_Very rockstar._

-who gave him an awkward smile as he complimented her, as he took a picture of her.

_Um, your hair. Your hair's, uh... very rockstar. I like it._

Adam's eyes widen and he backs away, further into the cell, because even though the bars keep Amanda from getting to him, his stomach flips again, his mouth gapes open. "You're... you're... _her. _That girl I met on the stairway after I left my apartment. _You're _the one who captured me!"

"Took you long enough to catch on, Adam," Amanda responds, nodding. That fucking smirk _still _hasn't left her face yet. "Don't you just wish we'd gotten to know each other?" She bats her eyes, and Adam wants to crack her head with a metal baseball bat. "Oh, we couldn't gotten to know each other!" She narrows her eyes again, and she drops the smirk. "I already know enough about you, faggot. I know about Alex, I know about your mother and father, I know about Sheena. I know about the drugs, and I know what _really _happened to Alex."

Adam's voice shakes and his heart sinks. "You... wouldn't _dare _tell Lawrence about that."

_"It's your fault for not telling him in the first place. You lied to him about what really happened."_

Fuck you and everything you stand for!

"Yes I would. Don't underestimate me. I do have a phone in my pocket, after all," says Amanda. And like the phone wants to add to the conversation somehow, Adam hears it vibrate in Amanda's pocket. "Oh, excuse me." Amanda opens the phone and puts it to her ear. "Hey, Sheena. Yeah, I got them here. Lawrence should be here in a few minutes. Make sure he follows the rules. Yeah. Whatever. 'Kay, bye." She hangs up.

Adam feels the bile rising up in his throat again. "Sh-_Sheena?_" his voice quivers. _Stop it, stop it! _"Sheena _Carter?_"

"Yes, Adam. One of your worst nightmares is Dr. Gordon's guide."

"Who the fuck is Sheena Carter?" Allison asks quietly, standing up and pressing her body against the bars.

"Just ask Adam," Amanda replies, cutting her eyes back at Adam. "You could ask Adam a lot of things, Allison. You could ask him why your husband's been cheating on you for Adam. You could ask him about why Lawrence loves _him _and not _you." _She spits the last word with such venom and animosity.

Allison finally looks at Adam, like she'd barely noticed that he's been here in the same room before. She's not glaring, not yet at least, and she says, "What is she talking about?"

But the fucking devil shoves words into Adam's mouth before he can even open his mouth. "I should think it's obvious, Ally," she chuckles. "I pretty much just spelled it out for you, now didn't I."

"I knew... I _knew _I couldn't trust Larry again..." Allison whispers, her voice thick. Her eyes are still resting on Adam, looking down on him, because if someone were to be shorter than Allison, it would be him. He's shrinking anyways, and suddenly, he's the bug under the microscope that everyone stares at, that everyone examines and prods at.

"Wow, I'd be pretty pissed if my husband cheated on me," Amanda hisses. _Whore. _"Come on, Allison, no tears. We all knew it was going to happen again. That medical student wasn't the first person he had an affair with, anyways. Many other, helpless, _helpless _whores-"

"Would you bite your fucking tongue!" Adam finally has the courage to scream at her. He'll finally be able to scream his own venom back at her. "If there's one thing I can't stand, it's people who won't-"

"Okay, _okay, _be quiet!" Adam jerks his head to look at Allison. "If she blows a hole in your head with that gun, I promise you I'll laugh. So for your own sake, shut up." Adam silences her by coughing into his hands, and her eyes widen even further. Like she might be in the slightest bit worried. But why would she?

After all, Adam's the one her husband is cheating on her for.

Adam swallows the metallic taste of blood and his body heaves, spasms, like his lungs are shrinking inside of him, like they're getting crushed, because they're not good lungs anymore anyways.

"Aww, don't you just regret every cigarette now?" he hears Amanda say, but his heart is pounding so much in his ears that her words are just a mere buzzing.

Adam wipes the blood on his hands on the rusty bars and he glances up at the vent. "Oh, I almost forgot!" exclaims Amanda. She points at a clock hanging above the door across the room. "I captured you and put you in here about eight o clock. It's eight thirty three right now. Dr. Gordon has until eleven o clock."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The house is broken down.

The wood is rotting, it smells of death and mildew, and it's going to fall apart at any moment. The floor boards creak with every step Lawrence takes on them.

He's following his own trail of blood.

The trail of blood he'd made whenever he'd crawled out of that trapdoor, whenever he'd been fighting to stay awake and find help. It's still there. It hasn't been cleaned up.

And why is Lawrence following his own blood?

Because that trapdoor leads underground to a place he'd thought he'd never have to see again.

He's going down to the bathroom.

Because that's where Adam and Lawrence had to follow their hearts once.

So Lawrence walks through the decrepit, broken house and follows that trail all the way to the trapdoor's room. He ignores the broken couch and boarded windows, lifts up the door, and walks down the stairs, all the way into the darkness.

He can't see his own blood anymore.

But he knows this place. He's been here before, on the floor, bleeding his life out, just waiting to see his wife and child lying dead in his house.

Because of that knot of fear he had planted in his stomach, he knows this place. He'll never forget it now. It's forever plastered into his memories. So Lawrence walks down the hallway quickly, turning corners, like it's some sort of dark, easy maze, but it doesn't make much of a difference, because he know he'll find the bathroom again, the bathroom that'd forced Adam into paranoia, the bathroom that'd hurt both of them so much that they thought they'd never be able to face it again.

But it doesn't matter what they'd thought, because now they _have _to face it again, or maybe not the bathroom itself, but they _do _have to face Jigsaw again. They have to find their way out of this again somehow.

Finally, finally, Lawrence finds the large, metal, yellowish door. Because it's so heavy and big, Lawrence has to use a great amount of strength to push it open and feel the scent of foul death reach his nose. Lawrence gags, and he's glad that he won't have to see anything.

But he has to turn the lights on to be able to follow his heart again.

So he reaches for the light switch, grateful that this time he has shoes on and he won't have to step in blood or on dead bodies. He flips it upwards, instinctively covering his eyes at the two rows of bright, stinging, white lights. The middle of the floor is stained with that blood, that blood from so long ago that'd turned into such a lake by the end of their eight hours.

Zep's body reeks of bacteria and the strong, foul, nose-wrinkling scent of death. His skin has turned completely tight and purple and his lips are blue. Lawrence has a feeling if he were to touch Zep, ice would spread through his fingers to his whole body.

Which brings back what Adam said from what seems like years ago.

_First dead body I've ever seen. They're different in real life... They don't move._

Lawrence can't help but staring at the huge trail of blood on the floor. Had that really happened? It seems like so long ago now. _That's my blood. That's from the day I cut off my foot. _

And when he looks at the wall, there it is. A huge heart drawn in... _hopefully _red paint is on the nasty, dirty tile wall. Lawrence's eyes widen.

Okay, it's a wall. What _about_ the wall?

_What am I supposed to do? _He reaches deep into his mind, flipping through its pages of watching all of those crime drama shows that Allison loves so much. He's never really cared for them, but now... Now they come in handy. _Okay, so sometimes whenever the detectives are looking for serial killers, they find a bunch of extra trapdoors in their houses. Is that what you're trying to tell me, Jigsaw?_

Lawrence presses on the wall, presses around the tiles to find _something, _and he does this until finally one of the tiles gets pushes in and the door pops open.

But he nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees the woman standing there. A woman with dark, auburn hair with brown -good God, maybe even _black- _eyes is what Larry's staring at. Her lips curve up whenever she sees him.

"Hello Dr. Gordon. I am Sheena Carter."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Not really a huge cliffie, I know. But since I provided you with another chapter, provide me with a review and an AdamXLawrence fic idea, please!

And btw, Erineil, sorry I mentioned Zep's dead body. :( Just, uh... DON'T THINK ABOUT IT! XD That's what one of my friends screams at me whenever we're watching Saw II/Saw III and it includes Adam's corpse.

DX Except, I can't even _watch _the part where Amanda suf- OKAY, SHUTTING UP. FOR MY OWN SAKE. DX -hits Amanda with a metal pole over the head-

How nice of her to be in this story so I can remember all the wonderful times she's had with Adam.

WHAT AN ASSHOLE!

WHY! WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME, AMANDA! YOU SICK BASTARD! DX

Don't worry, guys. I intend to kill both Sheena and Amanda off... I officially hate Amanda now. XD As you can tell. One of my friends made me hate her. And even though Sheena's my OC, I don't like her very much either. She made life hell for my Adam when he was a kid (wait, he still is a kid) so she has to die too.

Hopefully my Fanfiction buddies like my readers feel the same way... -smiles wickedly- That way we can all start a riot and hit Amanda and Sheena with metal poles. :D

And I bet I made you wonder about Alex, hmm? X3

Okay, I'm gonna stop this really long AN now. XD Peace.

Please R&R!

- 00One X00 


	8. For You, Adam

_**Heaven's A Lie  
By 00One X00  
Chapter 7: For You, Adam**_

**IAmMadlyInLoveWithJohnnyDepp: **XD Well, like I said, that's my specialty. X3

**XxErineilxX: **Sorry, I didn't mean to do that to you. -hands you a tissue, makes a Zep doll for you, hands it to you- Disease free and not bludgeoned to death. Enjoy. X'D

WAHAHA! Sheena is back and ready to torture Adam and Lawrence! -gets a shotgun out- Sheena, if you do anything other than what I tell you to do (translation: if you kill Lawrence) you will have no brains left and I will crack your head between two rocks. (Credit for that one goes to you, Stella... X'D)

Btw, the trap in this chapter... I _sorta _came up with it. It's pretty much a trap crossover, so maybe it can't be called mine... I mean, I came up with the whole concept of it. ORIGINAL TRAPS ARE HARD TO THINK OF. BOTTOM LINE. How the hell do Leigh and James do it?

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_She hurt Adam. She hurt him whenever he was just a ten-year-old child. She abused him and touched him and it wasn't fair and now she's here to hurt you, too._

Lawrence stares into her dark eyes, those God-awful almost black eyes, and he swallows, and it's like a fucking quarter goes down his throat. She smiles, no, smirks up at him, because she knows what he's thinking already, it seems.

_You fucking hurt him. You helped ruin his childhood._

She did all of that, remember, remember that, Lawrence.

"Sheena Carter..." At a loss for words, there's no other way to start his first sentence to Sheena, there's no other way to get out what he feels right now.

_Fucking bitch, _the tiny voice in Lawrence's head murmurs. _Fucking dirty whore._

"Yes, Dr. Gordon, and we've already established that my name is Sheena Carter," Sheena chuckles, her voice high and preppy and just so cheerleader-like that it scrapes against Lawrence's eardrums, and he wants to sew her mouth shut.

Make her suffer because of the pain Adam went through all those years ago.

"Well are you just going to stand their with your mouth wide open, Dr. Gordon?" says Sheena, rolling her evil devil eyes and waving one hand dismissively further into...

Further into a dark tunnel.

A dark, pitch black tunnel, leading to God Knows Where.

_Tunnel to hell._

For some reason, that's the thought that flashes through Lawrence's mind when he sees the tunnel.

"What's in the tunnel?" Lawrence's voice isn't his own. It's a stranger, standing within him, but whenever the voice comes out, it quivers, trembles, shakes, like a winding road on a scenic route through the country.

"That's something you're going to have to find out for yourself if you want to find your little lover. That poor little fucker's lung are probably filling with blood right about now, poor thing."

That's right. The nerve gas. Slowly killing both Allison and Adam from the inside...

"Tell me where he is... Please, just bring me to him," Lawrence murmurs, wondering for a second how such a short woman can make him look and sound so feeble right now. The voice still isn't his own. He can't even feel his lips moving, they're so numb, and with blood roaring in his ears, the words are just an emotionless, calm buzz that he can barely hear.

_These sick fucking people have probably already killed your Adam._

No, don't think about that. He's still alive. You know he is. Adam may be little, may be scrawny, but he's stronger than that. He was strong enough to survive the first time, and he's sure as hell strong enough to survive this time. You've just got to believe in him a little longer.

That's true. Lawrence has _three hours _to save Adam's life.

_Two hours and twenty three minutes, _he says to himself, glancing at his watch. _Approximately._

"Well, doc, you know as well as I do that there are a few games you have to play before I can do that," Sheena replies, studying her nails halfheartedly, probably not giving two shits about this whole thing. "Your first game is further through the tunnel, Dr. Gordon, and you'll have to play to get Adam back, obviously. You don't exactly have a very long time to do that now."

"I _know _that," Lawrence snaps back, the venom in his voice making him sound just like Adam now, except with a deeper voice.

"Then get a move on, Dr." Sheena starts walking ahead of him. Should Lawrence really trust her, really follow her? She's working with the person who shattered their lives into pieces, like a mirror that could never truly be fixed, no matter what. It's broken glass lying on a wooden floor, just left in place for more people to step on and crack into even tinier pieces. For fuck's sake, should Lawrence even trust that this whole thing is _real? _Maybe he'd just fallen asleep at Adam's bedside, and he'll wake up a little too fast, his head pounding, but he'll be able to kiss Adam's cheek and assure him that everything's going to be okay.

But even if this is a dream, Lawrence _knows _he has to follow Sheena. Even if he'll just wake up in twenty minutes or so, he _has _to follow her. Because if he gets hurt or other people get hurt in this _dream, _he'll awaken and his life will be normal again.

Right?

So Lawrence nods and takes his place walking a few feet behind her, further into the dark, until he has to say, "I'm prepared to call the police." And he doesn't know _why _he says it. He just blurts it out.

"And I'm prepared to blow a hole in your head with the revolver I'm carrying."

Figures she'd say something like that.

"Lawrence, for you to play by the rules, there are no shoes allowed," Sheena adds, gesturing for him to hand them to her.

Reluctantly, Lawrence takes off his shoes and hands them to her. What... does he have to do?

Lawrence nods like he's agreeing with her and continues to follow Sheena. They walk through the long, dark tunnel, until they come to a large, gray, steel door, completely unrusted, as if it's brand new. Sheena puts one hand on the handle, looks at Lawrence with her devil eyes, and says, "Welcome to your first test." Then she opens the door.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Adam watched Lawrence go down the tunnel hallway on the TV in his cell, even though it was hard to see him on that black-and-white, static TV with the tunnel being so dark. His face had brightened whenever he'd seen that dirty blonde doctor walking through the tunnel, no matter how nervous he'd looked a second ago.

Because he's going to save them. It's going to be all right now, no matter what.

He's going to come through that door soon, going to beat Amanda to death, going to sweep Adam up in his arms and stroke his face and tell him he's going to be all right.

Adam'd thought that because he'd never really taken a look at the second TV across the room.

His mouth gapes open in horror, and his voice squeaks - _God, _he _hates _that - out, "You're really not going to make him do that, are you, Amanda?"

Allison's eyes widen as she, too, stares at the TV, seeing her husband walk into the next room on it. She covers her mouth with one hand, seemingly predicting what's about to happen.

Amanda snickers, sitting down on the floor, as if this whole fucking room is her own personal movie theater. "Wow, this is going to be amusing. I can already tell!"

Adam wants to die.

Just so Lawrence doesn't have to do this.

Just so he doesn't have to hurt himself for the one he loves.

Because, really, it's not fair.

_"It's all for you, Adam."_

No.

"He's going to go through that to save you."

Fuck you.

"And what about the cruel things you said to him in the bathroom?"

Adam forces his palms to his ears.

_"You ungrateful-"_

"Stop!" Adam squeaks, and Amanda glances at him. He glares back at her, uncovering his ears immediately.

"Sit back and relax, Adam," Amanda murmurs. "Get ready for the first test."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lawrence stares at the room ahead of him and Sheena, his mouth gaping open. He covers it, but that doesn't keep him from trembling, shaking, the shock making his blood pump even faster through his veins until his heart skips a beat.

Sheena grins behind him. "You deal with this stuff all the time, doc. Why does it shock you so much that _Jigsaw _is using it on you?"

_Okay._

Okay.

Okay.

Get a grip.

This isn't so bad. These kind of things don't hurt so bad. Your patients deal with the pain. You've dealt with the pain the time you had to get those tetnus shots whenever you were thirteen, the day you decided you wanted to become a doctor.

This isn't so bad. They don't hurt-

Oh, fuck, is that glass in there-

No, it's okay. For Adam. For Allison. Do it. Do it for them.

The room's pretty large. There are bright light whites hanging from the low ceiling, but nevertheless, the room's gray walls give it a dark, shadowed look.

In the middle of the room, there's a huge rectangular hole in the floor. On the walls beside the rectangular hole in the floor are three little tunnels, similar to bomb shelters, which is weird, since there are no bombs inside of the room.

On the opposite end of the room from where Lawrence and Sheena are standing is another steel door, except with six locks on it. Three fucking locks.

So what's in the rectangular pit?

Just needle cyringes, pins, glass and other sharp objects, thousands and thousands of them, ten thousands and ten thousands of them, filling up the pit to the top. And there's absolutely no way to get to the bomb shelters without getting in the pit.

"Let me make this simple for you, Dr. Gordon," Sheena begins, a hollow ghost in the back of Lawrence's mind. "In each of the bomb shelters is a little sensor. Each of the sensors goes to a key, and each key goes to the door. The sensors will beep whenever their close to their selective key. And all of the keys are inside of that pit. You have to get _every single one of them _to advance to the next room. To make it easier, each key has a glowstick on them so you can spot them better."

_Oh God._

"Better get a move on, Dr. You have two hours and fourteen minutes left."

_For Adam._

Even though you don't love Allison, do it for her, too. But mostly do it for Adam. Do it because you want to see him again, because you want to smell the smoke on his breath. You want to hold him in your arms again.

"That poor little fucker's probably waiting for you."

"Shut _up,_" Lawrence hisses through gritted teeth. He's going to do it. He has to. Somehow, he has to find the strength to crawl to those bomb shelters and get the sensors. He has to get those keys somehow. For his Adam.

He stares at the dirtied sharp items.

Imagining them breaking his skin.

Oh, _fuck._

"Do you have the balls to even _try _to get in there?" Sheena hisses.

And anyways, Lawrence _can't _give Sheena the satisfaction of watching him chicken out. He can't let her win. Because he's going to show her how fucking much he loves his Adam, what he's willing to do to get to him, to carry him out alive, to bring that little body with him.

Adam has to survive today. He knows that for sure.

And the only way to make sure he survives is for Lawrence to sacrifice a few things.

So Lawrence inhales a deep breath, closing his eyes.

_Just get the sensors and the keys. You can do this. For Adam._

Yes. For Adam.

He really tries. He really tries to get himself into that pit. He even brings himself to the edge of the floor over it.

But he can't. And the lump rising in his throat is almost too much, too _fucking _much.

That's okay. He can try again. Because all of this is a dream anyways. It won't really hurt.

Lawrence takes another deep breath. It's going to be okay, he figures. Because this is just today. Tomorrow he won't have to feel this pain again. Never again. He'll think about it in the future, laugh at it, because it'll never hurt again after this.

So, before he can change his mind, Lawrence jumps into the pit.

The pins and needles and sharp, small shards of glass prick into his body like thousands of tiny thorns, but it's okay. He's doing this for Adam.

And he won't scream. He won't cry. He won't give _anyone _the satisfaction of seeing him curling up in a ball and moaning in pain.

Every time he moves, something else stabs into him, into his arms or legs or whatever else it stabs. 

_Fire. Searing._

Flesh. Blood.

Pain. Agony.

Thorn. Prick.

Those are the words that flash through Lawrence's mind like a projector, and no matter how many times he forces them out of his head, they come straight back in, firing up the pain.

_This is nothing._

Lawrence sits up in the pit, pins sticking into his knees.

_You've sawn off your foot before._

He glances around at each of the three bomb shelters, then starts crawling towards one of them, cringing, praying softly for himself and Adam.

_That hurt more than this._

He crawls into the bomb shelter, suddenly reminded of the time whenever he went into the playplace at McDonalds. Fucking cramped tunnel!

_This doesn't hurt so bad._

There the little blue sensor is, hanging by a string. A little red light glows on it. Larry unties it and snatches it in his hand like it's a prize he needs to claim.

_It's one of the prizes that lets you get closer to Adam._

Lawrence practically throws himself back to the pit, falling over into it, letting some of the glass graze his cheek. Needles and pins stick themselves in his shoulder as he falls into them. Unavoidable.

_This is worth it._

The sensor beeps rapidly. That must mean the key's close! Lawrence puts the sensor between his teeth, not _daring _to lose it, and swipes his hand through the items in front of them, sending some of them flying, but a few things get stuck in his hand and wrist, but that's okay, because it's no different from the rest of his body right now._  
_  
_Key. Key. Key._

Lawrence grips the sensor firmly in his teeth. At least he has that to bite down on, so the pain doesn't feel so bad anymore.

_Adam. Adam. Wait for me._

He bites down on the sensor, knowing he's making little plastic teeth marks in it, and he takes one more swipe through the items.

_Key!_

Lawrence's eyes widen.

There the little fucker is, attached to a glowstick.

He picks it up by the stick and throws it at the locked door, making it land on the solid floor in front of it with a small clanking sound. That way, he won't have to worry about collecting it later.

_Two left._

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Adam stares at the scene on the TV in front of him with such horror that his palms sweat and his hands shake as he grips the rusty bars, knowing he's making nail marks in them.

Allison screeches what he can't. "How could you make _anyone _do this!" Her running mascara makes her look like some sort of fucking raccoon.

_"It's all for you, Adam," _Alex mutters, sitting down. _"He'll be here for you, even though he doesn't have to be. And then you can cry like a little child whenever he wraps his arms around you."_

Lawrence climbs into the next bomb shelter on the TV and crawls out of it fast, the sensor in his teeth. He lets himself fall out of it, it seems, and he looks like he's biting down on it so hard that if he doesn't, he'll scream, and he'll cry.

_You... You don't have to do this for me, Larry. _The thought's a telepathic will that Adam _prays _that will get to Lawrence. But that stubborn doctor just keeps going, keeps digging through the needles, until he pulls out what looks like the second key. He throws it at the door quickly and then climbs into the third bomb shelter.

_You fucking idiot, you fucking idiot! Why are you doing this for us! This isn't fair to you! You were the one who sawed off your fucking foot the first time! If _anyone _deserves to be out of that bathroom, if _anyone _deserves to live, it's _you!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_  
_  
Lawrence reaches for the final sensor - _thank God - _and snatches that one in his hand as well. He grips it in his teeth like all the other, crawls out of the shelter, and lands back in the pit, nearly swallowing the fucking sensor because the pain stabbing into his arms burns almost way too much.

The wounds are on fire. A fucking fire has gotten inside of him somehow.

The sensor's beeping slowly, so Lawrence makes his way to the center of the pit.

That's better. A little faster.

He tries over near the start, and that's when the red light flashes and the sensor beeps the way a heart monitor would while someone's having a seizure.

Lawrence scoops the needles, pins, and glass out of his way painfully, groaning, trying not to cry now. It's a little hard whenever you're bleeding all over.

"Where's the _fucking key!" _he finally screams, because after digging about two feet, it hasn't done any good.

_Is this really worth it?_

Part of Lawrence just wants to stop right here. Just wants to forget about everything and leave this old life behind. How can they face this again? It _broke _them the first time. Shattered them. So why is he doing this again?

_For Adam, _he reminds himself again.

He wants that familiar smell of smoke to reach his nose again, to be able to taste that breath, to be able to hold the small waist, to be able to kiss the pale skin.

This is why it's really worth it.

There.

There it is!

Lawrence exhales loudly, relieved, as he scoops up the key in his bleeding hand. He throws it at the locked door, and he crawls to the door, lifting himself up and onto the solid floor. He grabs all of the keys, for a second imagining that they're Adam, that he's safe in Lawrence's arms again.

But fantasies aren't reality.

And Lawrence must keep going.

Yanking some needles out of his skin and grunting, Lawrence goes up to the door, putting the three keys in their locks and turning them. And thank God. The door opens.

_Hang in there. It won't be long now..._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**__

Guys, did you hear Lawrence? It won't be long now! ;D

Please R&R!

- 00One X00


	9. Five Years and Two Bullets

_**Heaven's A Lie  
By 00One X00  
Chapter 8: Five Years and Two Bullets**_

**xXErineilXx: **I bet you will. XD

**xdannixxhx: **-bows- I thank you.

**EmeraldDragon93: **Really? I thought the trap sucked. I mean, it doesn't feel right to me, but thanks! XD

**SawManiac211: **Yay for wincing! XD

**IAmMadlyInLoveWithJohnnyDepp: **:D Me too. I mean, once Adam and Lawrence are separated for a few chapters, EVERYONE wants them to get back together. Yes, I intend to kill the BITCH Sheena off. Maybe, maybe. XD Here I am, going on. XD Thank you, Stella.

Time for the second trap! This trap, I am proud to say, I came up with myself. :D

Btw, I won't be able to update as much anymore. Probably every week, and that's it, because school is starting for me in like two days. XD_****_

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_"Adam, wait a second! You're going to do something you regret!" Adam forced the hand off of his shoulder and looked back at his girlfriend, taking a drag from his cigarette. This was all of his fault, and he wasn't about to let something that was his fault get in the way of his relationship with her. Alex was the sole thing his whole life was centered around back then. "Adam, you fucking idiot, will you just listen to me!"_

Adam turned on Alex and glowered at her. "What? I've let people push me around my whole life, Alex, and with Shawn, it's going to be different this time. I'm not going to let people do this to me anymore." He wasn't even speaking to her. _He was pretty much looking past her, trying to convince himself what he was doing was right. "I'm going to get that money back. That motherfucker hustled us out of one hundred dollars, money that we can really use right now!"_

"Shawn isn't exactly a peaceful negotiator," Alex reminded him quietly. "Adam, if you get into another fight with him, you know I can't help you this time."

"I can handle myself."

Adam sits back against the bars, sighing. For so long, he'd thought he could handle himself. But this time he just has to rely on someone else, put his life in someone else's hands. It's a good thing he trusts Lawrence, too.

Lawrence limps down a hallway on the third TV, with that fucking bitch Sheena behind him. Adam wants to somehow pull Lawrence out of that TV so he won't have to suffer, and then pull Sheena out, because now he's twenty six and he can beat the shit out of that fucking whore for everything she's done to him.

How come all of Adam's demons are catching up with him now?

He thought that after Alex had died, he would be able to make his life better from now on.

Then he suffered through eight hours in a fucking bathroom, chained to a pipe, then suffered a schizofrenic breakdown, then suffered an attempted suicide, and now he's suffering having only about two more hours left to live. If he could handle himself, then how come he can't find a way out of this cage now? How come everything that's happened is haunting him again?

_You lied to Larry about Alex, _he reminds himself, running his fingers through his hair. That's right.

"Adam."

Adam flinches, surprised to hear a voice that isn't just coming from his head. He looks across from him and at Allison. She's standing up now, her fingers holding onto the bars, like she has to have _something _to hold onto, because everything is falling apart in front of her.

Adam can't really blame her. After all, Lawrence doesn't love her anymore. She's standing face to face with the man she told Larry not to believe, the man who's pretty much a scourge in her relationship with Lawrence. But that's okay. Because for some reason, right now Adam has no resentment towards her. Arguing about who loves Lawrence more won't help them out of this situation.

"Please..." Allison says, almost through her teeth. "Tell me _why _we're here." As if it wasn't obvious already.

"You wanna know why?" Adam mutters, standing up, having the same, sarcastic, smart-ass edge to his voice he has even whenever he's trying to be completely, dead serious. "Because, Allison, I'm some dumbass who had to have _help _to get out of that stupid bathroom. Apparently, I still don't value my life, and apparently, I don't value my love for Lawrence either." Feels so great coming out. "Apparently, I'm a man with some serious issues!" Adam chuckles, and he doesn't get why. He chuckles like this whole thing is some stupid, moderately funny joke, just a minor joke. "Apparently, in Jigsaw's eyes, I don't deserve to live."

He says it so fast that he doesn't even take breaths in between sentences. It just pours out, like a broken faucet, and Adam isn't even done yet. "And apparently, _you're _here, Ally, because you're Larry's fucking wife and he cheated on you for me." Feels so great. "Now I suppose this is all _my _fault, and I'm just some fucking kid who needs to find someone else, but that's not going to happen."

No it's not. Because Lawrence is too precious to lose.

Adam can't lose those precious blue eyes. No matter what happens.

"We'll just see about that," Allison finally growls whenever Adam runs out of breath and can't snap at her anymore. She glowers at him, then looks away, like it's a shame to look into Adam's gray eyes another moment. And Adam doesn't _want _her to look at him anyways. In fact, he'd rather have anyone caged in this room with him but Allison right now.

Okay, that's sort of a lie.

If it were Sheena or his father in the other cage, he'd rather have Allison. But still, over all, he'd rather have no one else in here with him right now.

"No tears, Allison." Adam jerks his head to look at Amanda, who's standing up again, hitting her hand with the gun like a bully pounds their fist on their hand. "I don't know if anyone's told you this, but crying is annoying as hell. Now just shut up and wait to watch the next test, for the love of God."

"You're one to talk, you stuck-up whore," Adam mutters, letting out an exasperated sigh, because that's what feels good as well. "If you're bored, Amanda, then why don't you go with your fucking cradle robber Jigsaw and get a motel room? Jesus. Makes me wonder if that's the only reason why you're with him."

"Quiet, faggot."

"So you don't deny it?" Adam smirks, but the smirk fades whenever Amanda gives him a dagger glare, one that pierces into him and cuts away all confidence he just had like a doctor cutting away at cancer. He won't look at her anymore.

Apparently, though, he's hit a sore spot.

_Good, Adam, _he praises himself.

"Like hell I'll be quiet."

"How about, _shut the fuck up, faggot?_" Amanda practically spits at Adam, pointing the gun at him. "If it were up to me, I would've killed you a LONG time ago. Because, in my opinion, none of our patients deserve to live. You're all worms of human beings."

Adam's voice has grown so small that it can't escape his throat anymore. With a gun facing your direction, your voice tends to die. And anyways, he can feel more blood burning in the back of his throat. Adam puts one hand over his mouth and hacks up blood into it, until his hand is warm and wet and his fingers are slippery.

"You all right?" he hears Allison ask between his coughs.

"Hardly," Adam rasps, wiping his hand on his white T-shirt, staining it with even more blood, because it's already stained from his stitches running. Adam pulls up his shirt and checks the stitches, running his wet hand over them. Damn zipper. To move, he has to limp around. Otherwise, it hurts like hell to walk around. Adam can feel himself sweating, and he doesn't know why, because he's not really all that scared yet. Although he should be. He sits down, cringing at the pain of the belly wound. Adam hangs his head.

_"Adam Faulkner, you son of a bitch, I'm tired of dealing with you," a taller, more muscular man growled, pointing a gun at Adam. Adam trembled, but he stood his ground. He wasn't about to run away, no matter what._

The snow was also his cover up for shivering, and thank God. Adam said, no hissed, through his teeth, "I'm tired of you always taking things from me, Shawn. You've hustled me twice now, and you stole my money several times. I'm about fucking tired of it."

"I'll shoot," Shawn threatened, the gun shaking in his hand, but as he and Adam stood in that alley, fear burned in the bigger man's eyes more than anger.

"Then shoot. My blood will be on your hands." The words tumbled out of Adam's mouth, no matter how much he wanted to fall to his knees, beg Shawn, please, please, don't shoot him, but he kept standing where he was, letting the snow stick to his dark hair. "But think about it. Whenever the police find me on the ground with a fucking hole in my head and take you into custody, the only one to have to blame is your fucking self, Shawn. And don't you think it's a little stupid for you to shoot me just because I want you to stop jacking my fucking money?"

"Adam, enough of this! I'll steal from you every damn day if I want to!" Shawn pushed Adam backwards, nearly knocking the little man off of his feet.

"Let's try to calm down about this," Adam heard Alex say from behind him. Adam glanced at her. In his own fear, he'd forgotten Alex was behind him. The blonde put one hand on Adam's shoulder. "Okay?"

The next thing Adam knew, he was on the ground. On the ground in the snow.

Adam shivered so much that his teeth chattered.

He got to his feet, running away as fast as he could. He'd have to skip town again. There was no way he could stay there.

Adam ran.

He ran through the street, along roads, panting, and even though his legs wanted to give out from under him, he kept running, running all the way to the next city, leaving two dead bodies behind him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lawrence walks down the next hallway until he reaches some stairs. He pulls out a few needles and a few pins, whimpering slightly. He hears a few crunches of glass before Sheena comes in the hallway, smirking that stupid devil smirk. Lawrence wants to strangle her, or stab her to death with some of the glass, or do _something _to end her life, because all she is a distraction.

And a demon that Adam might have to face again.

"That must've hurt," Sheena comments, looking down at her black leather boots. "I even got poked a few times, even in these boots. Oh well. You made it through your first test. One more step towards that poor little fucker, Dr. Gordon."

"Shut the fuck up and _stop _calling him that!" Lawrence hisses, whirling around, feeling his blood burn and boil underneath his skin.

She shouldn't say such things about Adam. Not after all this fucking pain she's causing him and Lawrence. And Adam is not _Poor Little Fucker. _Adam Faulkner is a person with a heart, a person with feelings, a person who's run into bad luck in his life. But even with that bad luck, Adam is truly a caring, kind, loving person who just needs someone to look after him. Adam Faulkner is a small, pale, runt with the prettiest greenish gray eyes. Adam Faulkner is a helpless little child. Adam Faulkner is the love of Lawrence's life right now.

So Sheena should just shut her mouth. Because she doesn't know _anything _about Lawrence's Adam_._

"Whatever, Dr. Gordon," Sheena snickers, shrugging. "But if you don't get to him in an hour and fifty minutes, you'll be calling him a corpse instead."

Her eyes widen then.

Lawrence goes back and takes a piece of dirty, cracked glass from the pit.

Sheena's dark eyes burn with shock and fear whenever Lawrence grabs her by the throat and shoves her against the wall. Adam's taken a permanent place in Lawrence's mind, behind his eyes, clouding his vision.

_You either tell me what is really going on, or I'll cut you with this, you hear me, I'll..._

"Say anything about Adam dying, and I'll cut your fucking head off with this," Lawrence hisses, so calmly, so clearly that Sheena will _know _he means it.

Sheena squeaks back a response, and Lawrence drops her. And Lawrence pretends not to see that grin on her face as he turns around. Because that grin will disappear some day whether Lawrence is the one to make it disappear or not. Fucking bitch.

Adam has gone so far into Lawrence's mind that every move he does now is for Adam. Not for himself anymore. God, how he needs Adam's smell again, how he needs to hold that little body in his arms and carry him out of here and kiss him over and over and never let him go, never again.

They'll move far away from this, so far away to where Jigsaw can never touch them again, never bother them, never test them.

_I love you, Adam._

That was the last thing Lawrence had said to Adam. And he'd never even waited to hear Adam's response.

What would Adam have said back?

Lawrence turns completely away from Sheena and makes his way up the stairs. He hears her footsteps behind him after a few seconds. Lawrence opens the door, and enters the next room.

Lawrence immediately starts sweating whenever he enters this room.

This room has a low ceiling like the first trap room. In the middle of the ceiling is a metal box, with two handles hanging from it. The handles go into openings that you can't reach into with just your hands. You'd have to take the handles, pull down on them, and they'd bring your hands up into the box.

"There is one key to the door out of this room, and they're in the box," Sheena explains, sitting down. "To get your hands in the box, you have to yank on the handles, and they will bring your hands up into the box."

"So what's the catch?" Lawrence demands, arching an eyebrow.

"The key is hanging by a string at the top of the box. However, since you have to pull the handles, each time you reach in the box, your hands will be stabbed by a metal rod. I really wonder if you're willing to go through that much pain for that poor little fucker."

He has to.

He'd sawn off his foot.

Being in a pit of needles, pins, and glass.

He can do this.

Adam is closer to him now, he knows.

This won't hurt so bad.

His hands will bleed, he knows.

But all he has to do is stick his hands in three times, and it'll be over.

"Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock-"

"Go fuck yourself," Lawrence hisses to Sheena. He grips the handles, and swallows a lump in his throat. He can do this. For Adam.

He's desperate to smell Adam's intoxicating cigarette scent again anyways.

Lawrence yanks down on the handles, and they pull his hands up into the box's openings. He bites his lip. 

Oh, mother_fucker._

The rod stabs through both of his hands, right in the middle of both of them, and Lawrence screams. He can't help it. He bellows it out, and it's like a stranger has taken over his body.

Lawrence is usually calmer than this, even in pain, but as his hand blood runs down his arms and through his fingers, he moans in agony. The rod slides itself out of Lawrence's hands, so he instinctively reaches up for the key. Immediately, he pulls his hands downwards but...

What the _fuck?_

He panics. His hands won't go through the holes. He pulls on them, and even though they're wet and slippery, they _won't _go through the openings, those fucking small openings.

_I'm wasting time!_

His hands are throbbing, and Lawrence whimpers. How is it that you are able to fit parts of your body in places, but whenever you try to pull them out, they won't budge?

"Stuck?" Lawrence hears Sheena snicker. He hears her footsteps behind her, and hears her whisper in his ear, "There are little rubber things around the openings that you can slide down, Dr. Gordon." Lawrence stares at the round rubber linings to the openings. If he'd... If he'd only stuck _one hand _in, he would've been less wounded, _and _he'd be able to free himself. "If only you had someone to help you with this little predicament."

_I don't want your fucking help! _Lawrence almost screams at her, because he knows what's about to happen. But if he's stuck here all day, he won't be able to save Adam and Allison, he'll just stand in one spot, knowing that the one he loves is in a much worse position than him and only has less than two hours to live.

"I can help you, Dr. Gordon," whispers Sheena, and Lawrence's skin crawls.

He wants her to die. He wants himself to die.

"But, if you want my help, you have to answer a question."

Just answer a question?

Simple enough.

"If Adam and Allison were both going to die and you could only save one of them, who would you save?"

Lawrence flinches, like he's ten again and his mother struck him across the face whenever he talked back to her.

He's afraid of this question.

Afraid of it like it's some monster in a horror movie that kills off _all _of the main characters.

Who is he kidding?

This whole thing is just a horror movie that he and Adam are the stars in, and if something goes wrong, the director can just yell cut. It's not even real blood on Lawrence hands. It can't be.

Lawrence closes his eyes and lets out a sigh.

Allison.

Her long, blonde hair.

Her blue eyes.

Those times she's said she loves Lawrence.

That stern look she gives him whenever she knows there's something he's not telling her.

The way she told him to just leave her.

The way he can't talk to her about the bathroom, because she won't understand, because she wasn't there.

The way, in Lawrence's worry, she was really just a voice on the other end of the phone.

Adam.

His dark, curly hair.

His greenish gray eyes.

That tiny, helpless body.

Those feminine hands.

That way he scowls at everything and never admits his feelings.

That way Lawrence knows he cares even though he pretends he doesn't.

The way his lip trembles whenever he's afraid.

That intoxicating scent of cigarette smoke that just _Adam's _smell, that smell that Lawrence can't lose.

Lawrence and Allison have been married for years and years. But they have no history. Allison is a stranger.

Lawrence and Adam haven't even known each other for that long. But they have tons of history. Adam is the love of his life. The one he can't bear to live without now, the one he needs by his side at all times.

Because without Adam, Lawrence is just that cheating doctor that he was before.

Nothing more, and nothing less.

Lawrence opens his mouth to answer.

_Adam, I love you._

He isn't sure if he says that out loud. He doesn't care.

With a fucking hole in both hands, he doesn't care.

"A-Adam." Lawrence looks over his shoulder at Sheena. "I would save Adam."

He whimpers it. So pathetic.

"I love Adam so much, so fucking much... I swear to God, if the next time I see him it's because he dies in my arms, I will snap your neck with my bare hands. Now get my hands out of this _fucking box!" _Lawrence starts to tremble, glancing at the rivulets of blood that run from the openings and down his arms.

"Okay, now that was simple, now wasn't it?" Sheena pulls both of the rubber linings down and helps Lawrence get his hands out of the openings.

Lawrence lets out a relieved sigh as he stares at his hands. The holes have swollen so much already that he can't see through them, but they're still bleeding like crazy, so Lawrence takes one of his shirt sleeves in his teeth, rips a little bit of fabric from it. He uses it to bandage one hand, and then rips another piece of fabric to bandage the other hand. It doesn't hurt so bad anymore. He just has to keep himself from making fists.

He'll always have a scar from the rod, though. Scars heal, but they never go away.

"Well, shall we head off to your third test?" Sheena asks, gesturing towards the door.

Lawrence picks up the red, slippery key.

He must've dropped it whenever Sheena had gotten his hands out.

"You know I have to," Lawrence sort of chuckles, wiping the blood on his hands off on his shirt. It's obvious.

Without Adam, Lawrence is nothing.

So he goes to the door, turns the key in the lock, and opens it to the next room.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Adam can't watch this anymore.

He'd seen Lawrence still his hands up into that box, calm for a moment, and then seen his mouth gape wide open, as if he was screaming.

He knows he should be jaded by now, be immune to all this because Adam's already been through enough pain in his life.

But he's not.

He'd rather die than watch this any longer.

Adam goes over to the locked door in the cell, and he reaches his hands and messes with the lock in front of it. Amanda hears him and immediately points the gun at him. "No way."

"What? Afraid your little rats will escape their traps?" Adam counters, rolling his eyes. He needs to get out of here. Right now.

"Relax, you have about an hour and thirty seven minutes left," Amanda says, shrugging. "You'll get out of this room one way or another, and Dr. Gordon has only two more tests to complete. You should be more worried about the final test than anything, Adam."

"There's only one more test on the TVs," Allison points out, pointing at the TVs.

"I want you to look at the last TV very carefully, if you think that."

Adam leans forward against the bars. He'd never looked at the last one very clearly. He just thought it was two people... But now as he takes a long, good look at the TV... He raises one hand.

The man on the TV raises one hand.

Adam jumps.

The man on the TV jumps.

"However, right now you should be focusing on Lawrence's third test. This whole time, Sheena has been carrying a cell phone in her pocket. So that means this whole time..." Amanda lifts some of her spikey hair to reveal her ear, which has one of those cell phone headsets attached to it. She then takes an open cell phone out of her pocket. "...This whole time I have been able to listen to Sheena and Lawrence talking."

"So?" Adam spits.

"Sheena just asked Lawrence a very important question," Amanda goes on. "She just asked Lawrence, 'If Allison and Adam were both dying, and you could only save one of them, who would you save?'."

Allison's eyes widen.

Adam can almost _hear _them widen.

"If you look at the next test, you'll see that the room is a huge maze," Amanda continues, gesturing to the TV with her hand that's not holding the cell phone. "And Lawrence chose _you, _Adam." Adam can almost _hear _Allison grimace. "So now you have your very own test. Sheena will blindfold Dr. Gordon. Your job is to give him _accurate _directions through the maze."

"And what the hell is the point of that?"

"We all need to see how well you trust one another, Adam. That's your test."

Adam stares at the TV as Lawrence goes into the maze room. That fucking maze... He has to give Lawrence accurate directions in _there? _Lawrence picks up something off of the floor and stares at it. He turns around and seems to be talking with Sheena. Sheena then hands him... What looks like a blindfold.

"Dr. Gordon just picked up a cell phone," Amanda says quietly. She closes her cell phone and the hands it to Adam through the bars. "Dial 817-298-7194." She repeats it slower so Adam can get it.

Adam dials the number as fast as his fingers will let him, ignoring a sarcastic remark from Allison. He hears the phone ring a few times, staring at Lawrence look at the phone curiously on the TV.

_Answer. Please._

The ringing breaks off. Adam's heart leaps whenever he hears the calm, doctor voice of the man he knows loves him. "Hello...?" Lawrence acts like this is the movie Phonebooth. Reluctant, and choosing words carefully.

"Lawrence!" Adam nearly laughs out, smiling so big, because it feels so fucking good to hear that calm voice again. He's grinning like he did whenever he found out there were cigarettes in the black box. Whenever he'd called them the most beautiful invention on this planet.

"Adam!" Lawrence gasps, and Adam sees him nearly jump out of skin in shock on the TV. "Adam, where the fuck are you? How are you doing? Are you okay?"

"I'm _fine," _Adam mutters, not wanting to add to Lawrence's List of Worries. "I can see you, Lawrence. There's a bunch of TVs in this room, so I've been able to watch you..."

His throat closes.

So he's relieved whenever Lawrence talks.

"It's all right, Adam," Lawrence tells him softly, scratching his head on the screen. "How far am I to the end?"

"This test and the one after i-it." Adam's voice cracks. Fuck, why is his voice giving out on him _now?_

"Be strong," Alex tells him.

"Lawrence, you... You moron, just leave this place!" Adam has to grip the bars. His going to crack his fists if he doesn't, and now he's practically _screaming _the words. Lawrence _can't _suffer anymore because of Adam! "I'll be _fine! _I can get out of here by myself!"

"Adam, listen to me-"

"No, you listen to me! You have fucking holes in your hands, you jumped inside of a fucking needle pit, for God's sake, and now you want to keep on going on and making sacrifices for someone who doesn't even _deserve _you, Lawrence?" He's screaming. And it doesn't stop. "It's not worth it! Name one good fucking thing that I've ever done for _you! _Tell me why this is all worth it for _you!"_

Lawrence doesn't even hesitate. He says it immediately. "You came into my life."

Adam's eyes widen. He doesn't even speak. He just stares at Lawrence on the screen, full of needles and pins, bleeding and breaking. For _him. _

Lawrence has always been so far out of Adam's reach. With his perfect life. Perfect daughter. Perfect wife. Perfect house. Perfect job.

Adam doesn't deserve him.

They're nothing alike.

Yet they love each other so much right now.

They know that. And they don't even have to say those words.

They wouldn't have had the chance anyways.

Because the air in the back of Adam's throat catches, and he has to choke out many, many loud, long coughs while holding his hand to his mouth. And it's like a virus, because Allison starts coughing as well, from the other side of the room.

"Adam, are you all right?" Lawrence asks, his voice etching with worry. The funny thing is, he should be more worried about himself right now.

"Nerve gas..." Adam chokes out, and then spits up blood on the floor. It's warm and metallic and tastes like shit, utter _shit, _in his mouth.

Lawrence's voice shakes. And Adam can tell that his lip is trembling without looking at the TV. "A-Adam, are you all right?" he repeats softer.

Adam stares at the blood on the floor, and he shakes his head. He can't be worried about himself right now. He has to get Lawrence through this maze.

For Lawrence.

"My j-job..." Adam rasps, trying to regain his breath, "is to lead you through the maze. You have to put the blindfold on, Larry, and I'll give you directions, okay? You'll be fine. Okay?"

"All right, Adam... Thank you." Lawrence pauses. "Do you remember what I told you before I left you in your hospital room, Adam? I told you I loved you. And since that kiss in the bathroom... Since I was trembling and you were crying and I had one hand on your cheek..." He chuckles. "I've loved you ever since then. I never told you, but I did love you, so much. And I love you... Right now more than ever, Adam Faulkner." His voice still shaking. Trembling. "I should've told you more, Adam! Because I loved you every day, I really did, more than my own life, so you can't die, I can't let you die..."

He trails off. He almost sounds like a little child.

Adam's eyes water again, but this time with tears of love and melancholy.

Blood on their clothes.

Trembling.

Lawrence's promise.

The moment their lips touch.

Adam wants that again.

More than his own life.

"I've loved you every day, too," Adam whispers, guilt starting to eat away at his insides. "You were there for me, always, no matter what. You helped me..." The tears start falling, streaming down his face. They have minds of their own, because Adam doesn't fucking want them to. "You fixed me, you made me a better person... And I... I lied to you about something, Larry..."

Tell him the truth.

"What do you mean?" Lawrence asks.

"Alex... didn't die because of a drug overdose," Adam whimpers. "I threatened a guy who was stealing our money, and... Whenever she got in the way to stop him from shooting me, he shot her instead... And I was so blind... So blind that I..."

Alex's body going limp in his arms.

Rage clouding his vision.

Cold metal in his hands.

The sound of an ear-splitting bang.

Two dead bodies in front of him.

His legs giving out from shock.

Running so far away.

"I murdered a man, and I didn't even have enough courage to tell you!" Adam's screaming again. "That's why I don't deserve you, Lawrence! I lied to you!" He's sobbing now. He can't stop himself, can't stop the tears from pouring. "I never told you about a huge part of my past, and I came back a day later and hid the bodies, and I... I never turned myself in!" It's like his hands are still stained with that same blood whenever he'd hid the bodies. He can feel it, sticky and crimson. "I'm a fucking murderer and a liar!"

"Adam." Lawrence's voice is soothing, non-scathing, coaxing, even when Adam's shoulders are shaking. "I'm not going to judge you for something that happened five years ago. I love you. In my opinion, you did instinctively what I would've done if someone had murdered _you. _It's just an instinct. You loved her."

"Almost as much as I love you," Adam admits, wiping his eyes. He looks at the TV, swallowing sobs. God, he sounds like a fucking girl when he's crying. "Lawrence, we don't have much time now."

"I know, Adam..."

He'll lead him through this maze.

Because he loves Lawrence more than anything.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Awww! Don't you just love those two? Finally, a revelation! :D And since I provided you with a super long chapter, provide me with a review! (Even though the trap sucked nuts. It's the best I could think of. DX)

Please R&R!

- 00One X00

__

****


	10. Dark Red Circle

_**Heaven's A Lie  
By 00One X00  
Chapter 9: Dark Red Circle**_

**EmeraldDragon93: **This is the first time you've noticed my humongous amount of typos? XD Yeah, I know Adam's hair isn't curly. That was unintentional as well. You know how sometimes when you're typing your mind gets ahead of what you actually mean to say? Well, this was one of those times. But I'm still surprised those are the only typos you've found through the whole thing, cuz when I read over them, I think, "DAMN," when I've seen all those typos and I forget to include important details. But it usually takes me a whole day to write a chapter for this fic, so I when I see something that needs fixing, I just say, "SCREW IT," and let it be.

**XxErineilXx: **XD I was the Billy doll for Halloween last year. Talk about funny memories.

**misery-hates-company: **Well, prepared for me to break it like one of my mom's favorite plates. XD (Seriously. Do not keep breakable objects around me. I break pretty much everything. This includes... Everything.)

**IAmMadlyInLoveWithJohnnyDepp: **Yes, I wanted to do what you did and have a phone convo between Adam and Larry, just cuz... I like when Adam's crying. For two reasons: It's CUTE, and he sounds like a girl when he's crying. XD Writing love confessions/past revelations are two of my favorite things to do. Oh, and Adam didn't kill Alex. Shawn shot Alex when she was in the way, and Adam shot Shawn because it was... A heat of passion murder. (Pre-meditative is much funner to say though. XD) 

Well, as far as what's going in my life, before the chapter starts, I have some things to share, so gather 'round, children. (Even though I'm probably one of the youngest ones here. Stiil, my age shall not be revealed.) First things first, Stella (IAmMadlyInLoveWithJohnnyDepp) and I are co-writing our own fic together. It's still in the beginning stages, so please bear with us. (And it is an honor to work with such a talented writer. X)) Second, like I said, it will take me a while to update. I know I usually update every like... Three days or so... But I'm officially in a new school grade, and... I HAVE TOO MUCH FUCKING HOMEWORK, plus by the time I get home, I'm too worn out to do anything but sleep. How dare teachers torture children for eight hours a day! It's worse than Jigsaw. (Pfft.) Order of business three: This chapter might suck nuts, mostly because...

Tonight I was bitten by a poisonous spider, and it's made me pretty sick, so I can't think straight.

Oh! And this chapter is EXTRA long because I put in two tests. And because I came up with a MAJOR way with how to end the games, and I wanted to get it out there before school made me lose the idea. Don't worry, though. This story's supposed to have at least twelve chapters. And don't hate me cuz I squeezed a ton of stuff int his chapter. I have a lot of time on the weekends, and no time at all during the week.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

When Adam was twenty-three, he found a wallet in on the sidewalk while walking to one of his jobs.

As people passed him by, as he passed strangers by, his grayish eyes glanced down to a small, brown, square object on the dirtied concrete. And no one had grabbed it. No one had grabbed a wallet full of _hundreds _of dollars, credit cards, debit cards, a driver's license, and other personal items that you could use just to gain more in your life.

He saw it. Right in front of him, on the ground, and all he had to do was take it.

All he had to do was take it, and no one would ever notice.

No one would ever care.

Even with many people walking past Adam, even though they could all see in plain sight that he was just standing there, staring at a wallet full of cash, even if they saw him pick it up, no one would care.

And no one would ever do a thing about it even if they did care.

Even if someone saw Adam pick up the wallet, shove it in his pocket and turn away nonchalantly, they would just give him a dirty look. But the dirty look would be like finding a tiny shard of ice surrounded by fire. The ice is so weak against all the fire, so whenever the fire melts it completely, nobody sees, so nobody cares.

But this is _Adam Faulkner _we're talking about.

Not some rich, greedy, avarice, fucked-up CEO who wants all the money he can get his filthy hands on.

What would Adam do with all that money? Buy a new car, get a house, get better clothes? Then get some chick and marry her? Bring roses and chocolates to her every evening whenever he came home with a huge wad of cash sticking out of his back pocket, every evening when he came home with a stupid fucking briefcase in his hand?

Alice Faulkner, a woman with such a future, had tons of fucking money whenever she'd scammed upscale resturaunts. Alice just used it for hospital bills and food. That's it. Because truthfully, what would _any _of the Faulkners beside Adam's cheapskate rapist father do with money? Wake up in a mansion, surrounded by white walls that mean absolutely _nothing _to anyone but a status symbol?__

Money could've made Alice and Adam's lives so much better. Money could've saved Alice's life, but no, she insisted on her son using it, using it because she didnt know what to use it for. What would she use it for? How could she use up all that money? Even though she gave it to Adam before the day she died, Adam hadn't been able to figure out what to use that money for either.

Because what is money really good for? There are so many other more important things in life.

Money gives you power. And power is something that someone like Adam cannot handle. Because he doesn't know what to do with power. Because Adam is not a powerful person. He never will be.

That's why Jigsaw must've chosen Lawrence to be the one to save Adam, instead of Adam saving Lawrence. Because now Adam realizes that the only thing he and Jigsaw have in common is the fact that they both know Adam would never be able to handle that responsibility, no matter what happens. Because Adam isn't that kind of person.

Jigsaw can't change Adam. Adam realizes that now.

Jigsaw can't change Lawrence, either. It's not in his power to do so.

No matter what power Jigsaw has over Adam and Lawrence, even if he carves himself into their nightmares for years and years to come, even if he turns out to be the devil himself, he can't change them. You cannot change people. That's just how it is.

People never change. They may look different, act different, but they have the same shells that they've always had, always talk the same, live the same.

Amanda Young is an example.

Lawrence had listened to her testimony all those months ago. When she was crying, sobbing about what Jigsaw had done to her. Sobbing about a fucking reverse bear-trap hooked into her jaws that would rip her mouth wide open. Yet she's here, right now, in the middle of the room, watching Adam with a malicious gleam flickering in her eyes like a chandilier lightbulb. Jigsaw put her in that trap because she was a drug addict, injecting drug after drug into her arms, having her veins hardened to prove it.

Is letting her get some sort of sick stimulation by watching person after person die in endless jigsaw puzzles and games really much different from being a drug addict?

Amanda just has something else to stimulate her now. The only change is the fact that it's watching people die and drown in their own blood and tears, and it's not herion anymore.

Amanda has not been changed by Jigsaw.

She would've been better off doing herion for the rest of her life.

Allison's doing worse than Adam now. She's coughing, her sides heaving and her chest fluttering like a paper bag in the wind. Blood runs down her chin, even when she doesn't cough, because it's mostly vomit now, vomit mixed with food and blood. Adam almost feels sorry for her. Part of him _does _want to feel sorry for her, because she didn't really do anything wrong. She's just here as a sacrifice to Adam's and Lawrence's game, because there always has to be _some _final test in every game that every sacrifice is placed in, even though _they _appreciate their life. Even though they appreciate their life, they still die.

Jigsaw has helped _no one._

And even if Adam is another sacrifice that has to die to, at least Lawrence won't. Lawrence can just leave right now without any more grief if he wanted to, drive home, pretend that none of this never happened, that Adam is just a dream and Allison isn't real and that he has always been by himself.

Lawrence will never die. He can't. It is literally impossible for Adam to picture Lawrence dead on the ground in his own pool of blood. Because that picture would be scribbled over so fast before Adam could even figure out what it was.

Adam's mouth cracks open in another cough, and he has to draw in a huge breath before he can speak again.

His lungs are filling with blood. He knows that. They'll shrivel up soon.

He can die. He accepts that.

But he still has to help Lawrence before he does.

Adam looks at the TV screen with the maze slightly. His hand grips the cell bars tighter than ever before. They need something to hold onto until Lawrence gets here. "Lawrence..." his voice cracks, rasps, and he can't even feel himself talking. His lips are numb. He's just the host of a parasite that's crawled into his body and it's making him bring Lawrence further to him. Even when all Adam wants Lawrence to do is to go home and forget about him. Because even though he knows Lawrence loves him, Lawrence is going to suffer no matter what.

Lawrence is fidgeting on the TV screen. Adam sees his every move. "What is it, Adam?" Lawrence asks quietly, his voice heavy and thick and overloading, like it's being squeezed and the only way it'll escape Lawrence's throat is through squeaks.

Adam loves him. It's a random thought, because even though Adam's heart is being weighed down so much by disdain and dismay and hate, a single little warm circle has formed in his heart. A barrier surrounds it, because that little circle is Lawrence. The barrier will never let in any hatred for Lawrence. Even if there were no barrier, hatred would still not penetrate the warm little circle. Because Adam has cradled that little circle far too much into his heart for it to be penetrated.

He loves that circle.

It's drawn in his own blood. The blood he shed for Lawrence to save him from Zep so long ago.

Adam loves that circle.

The love for that circle is almost too much, too overwhelming that sobs rise in Adam's throat. He can't fight them. They rise up, and Adam only _hopes _that they don't sound like sobs. He tries to force them back into the little jar labelled Adam's Jar of the Unwanted, but they escape before he can grab them and put them back in their place.

Adam sobs. He sobs for that circle.

Adam whimpers, sobs, "Don't do this for me, _please..._" He's glad Lawrence can't see how pathetic he looks right now. He's already embarrassed enough that Amanda gets the satisfaction and stimulation of looking at it, with her stupid grin widening. "God, Lawrence, you really need to _forget_ me."

"Tell me where to go," Lawrence almost _snaps, _because it's almost like he's _ordering _Adam to do it.

There's no point in arguing.

Of _course _Adam is going to tell Lawrence where to go.

Adam's chest flutters suddenly, and he catches his breath in his throat like he's done many other times in the time that he's been here.

Blood replaces the sobs, washing them away. But that doesn't matter. There is an infinite amount of sobs in Adam's Jar of the Unwanted. The blood fills Adam's throat, mixed with other things, and Adam presses the top of his head against the bars. He stares at the floor, letting the vomit drop out of his mouth and land on the floor in a sort of _plit _sound. It's on his shirt as well, on his shoes, but it's not like it matters. He can wash his shirt and his shoes after this over. He just can't wash away the thick layer of disgust his has for himself and Jigsaw right now.

Adam's dying. He knows it.

He drops to his knees, wiping his sweating forehead, and he won't even look at Lawrence on the TV screen at first. Because all he'll see is Lawrence's mouth dropping in sheer horror, Sheena smirking behind him.

But the strange thing is, even though Adam's dying inside, he has power right now.

For the first time in his life, even though he's been trapped by Jigsaw, he has power.

And that scares the hell out of him.

He's had power before, but he's never had the chance to use it. Now he _has _to use it.

The parasite's controlling his body again. It makes Adam's eyes flicker up to the maze TV, look at Lawrence, who is crying like a seven-year-old little girl on the other end of the phone. Jigsaw is taking Lawrence's sanity apart again.

Adam is not going to let that happen again.

"Lawrence," Adam says, sharper after panting and drawing in another deep breath. Or, the parasite says it. He doesn't know. His lips are still numb. He's just a host that has to sit back and watch this game play out now. "You need to go straight first. Not left or right. Straight. Right now."

It sounds good. It's like he's watching himself say it. Like he's standing outside of the cell, staring at a pathetic mess hanging onto life. It isn't him anymore. It's just the parasite now.

Adam Faulkner isn't here right now.

Lawrence whimpers, "All right, Adam, all right." He puts on the blindfold, even though he's seen where he can go now.

"Are you _crazy?_" Adam hisses, shaking his head. "No blindfolds. I don't care what _Sheena Carter, _the woman who _touched _me and _slapped _me around like an absolute whore, has to say about it." That's right. Never again. Not after this. "You take that blindfold off and at least have some _sort _of advantage in this maze, Lawrence! Because if you keep running into walls, it's not going to be much fun for either of us, now is it?"

"It's against the rules-"

"Screw the _fucking _rules! You broke their rules last time, didn't you, and you're still alive, aren't you!" It's not a question. It's the truth. "We ran out of time, you sawed your foot off after it was _too late, _you _left _that bathroom even after breaking their rules!" It's all one sentence. He runs out of breath, but he keeps on talking even after his voice becomes absolutely hoarse. "We ran out of time, I broke the rules and sat in the dark for two days by myself, and I'm _alive! Screw _the rules!"

Silence.

Adam keeps his eyes on the TV. Lawrence takes off the blindfold slowly, and Sheena frowns. Adam hears her whiney cheerleader voice say something in the background of the phone.

"No," Lawrence says, to Sheena. "I'll go without the blindfold, thank you very much."

Sheena says something back to him. Adam can hear it this time.

"You want a fucking hole in your head?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lawrence glares at Sheena, and she grins again. The blindfold blends into the sweat on Lawrence's palms, because now it's just soaked from sweat just like everything else on his body. Not to mention, his hands have still not stopped bleeding.

That's okay.

He's going to win this.

Sheena is not going to shoot him just because he won't put on a fucking blindfold.

Lawrence throws it down. It's irrelevant, and he'll never touch it again. He knows he won't. Because he needs his own vision for this test as well. So Sheena Carter can go to hell for all he cares. Sheena won't shoot him. He won't let her.

"Dr. Gordon, you must really want to die," Sheena almost _stutters, _because Lawrence knows she's surprised by his confidence. Sheena's devil eyes aren't brimming with that same malevolent malice that they've had this whole time. Her eyes have dimmed, like she's afraid of refusal.

Lawrence is so afraid right now. He knows it because his hands are shaking so fucking violently. But the fear doesn't matter. His confidence _drowns _the fear, or at least locks it down where it's suffocating temporarily. Sheena Carter isn't going to tell Lawrence and Adam what they can and can't do.

These games have no rules.

Those rules have already been broken.

Because as soon as Lawrence doesn't answer and Sheena takes out that revolver, Lawrence grabs the hand that Sheena holds it in.

Sheena growls and hisses like a fucking cat as Lawrence corners her, digging his nails into her hand until they break her smooth, perfect skin. Sheena won't let go of the gun. She'll just grip it as tight as she can, growling and kneeing Lawrence even though she keeps missing where she's aiming.

She lets out an exasperated scream, and Lawrence digs his nails in even further. He _knows _she's _dying _to let go of the gun, to just screw and damn Lawrence for taking it from her, but Sheena is like Adam in the way that she's _proud._

No. Sheena is not like Adam. Sheena is just a twisted woman who's been editted by Jigsaw and turned into a copy.

Lawrence raises his fist and strikes Sheena, right in her pretty little mouth. Sheena almost bites through her lip, Lawrence sees, and he punches her again. Because she has to die. She's the fucking devil. She must die.

Lawrence doesn't even check if she's still conscious after he nearly bangs her eyes out of her head. He just grabs the revolver from her limp hands, her slim fingers, and he throws that bitch onto the floor. That fucking filthy bitch who hurt Adam so much.

She's out. Out like a light.

She's alive, but she's out.

Lawrence picks up the phone. He must've dropped it whenever he'd grabbed Sheena. Before he even holds it two his ear, he hears Adam whimpering, sounding like a pathetic, spoiled little girl who hasn't gotten her way. Except the sobs are more than that. Lawrence can tell they're sighs even when Adam _tries _to stifle them. "I'm all right Adam," Lawrence assure the kid quickly, even though he knows Adam can see him and Adam knows he's all right.

"I know..." Adam hisses, in constrast to his whimpers. "You idiot, she could've _killed _you! What the fuck is the matter with you?"

Lawrence chuckles. He doesn't know why, but he chuckles. "Oh, Adam, you're the idiot," he mutters, shaking his head. His voice quivers, but he keeps talking. "I would take a bullet for you any day. You should know that by now." He knows Adam does. Isn't it obvious by now?

"Don't... You idiot, don't scare me like that," Adam mutters in response, and Lawrence can almost see him shaking his head. Adam's voice has become a ghost of itself. It has become raspy, dry-sounding, and it even hurts Lawrence to hear him speak, just because he can only imagine the fire raging in Adam's throat right now. "Lawrence, I can't... Watch you die. So don't be so fucking reckless."

Adam's one to talk.

"Lawrence, go straight, like I said. And then take a left..."

Right. Go straight, take a left. That's what Lawrence does. It's like Lawrence is Pacman and Adam is the controller of the joystick. Adam _Faulkner _is the controller of the joystick. Someone who's never been in control in his entire life.

This whole thing is just a movie, no, just a video game. Adam and Lawrence have to both be pixelated game characters. If one of them dies in here, they'll get more lives. Chances. Lawrence keeps listening to Adam's directions, walking through the maze. Lawrence is Pacman. Sheena is just one of the little ghosts that eats Pacman, but Sheena's eating powers have been disabled.

Or maybe not Pacman, but Lawrence is just some character in just another low-budget horror movie. The director will yell cut any minute now, Lawrence will take some fake blood off of his hands and off of his clothes, and all of the cast will joke about how terrible they did. They'll maybe go out to dinner together, get a coffee, and none of this will really be true. Everything will be fixed. Adam will be okay, safe in Lawrence's arms, with no risk of dying or pain or anything.

Lawrence finds himself gripping the phone tighter as Adam speaks.

They're saying their correct lines, everything, and they're all _amazing _actors. They're making the perfect low-budget horror movie, and once it's wrapped up, they can watch in dark theaters, be surrounded by the smell of soft drinks and popcorn. Be surrounded by that one dumbass who repeats every line in the movie. Then they'll discuss what a great time it was, working together, and then they'll be on their separate ways, off to work on other movies.

Lawrence shakes his head, turning a corner, his heart dropping.

This is not a movie. As crazy as it seems to Lawrence, as unbelievably _painful _as this all is, this is all real. This is part of Lawrence's life.

Lawrence turns another corner, his hands shaking. Adam's voice is a low beep under the blood that's roaring in his ears. The exit. Hopefully the exit. It's right in front of him, and all Lawrence has to do now is reach out and take the handle.

Adam said before that he was almost done with these games.

"I'm out."

The word "out" comes out of Lawrence's mouth so quick, like rain falling. Lawrence pushes on the door, the heavy door that takes a few more pushes to open, but he gets out of that maze, out of that room, all thanks to his Adam.

_Thank you, Adam._

He says it out loud. Even if it's said in his head, he says it out loud, too.

The next room... Is a sort of dim hallway. The only lights are small yellow lamps that hang from the ceiling, much like the ones in the first test. Down the hallway, set on storage crates, are rectangular black boxes, like the one Lawrence had found in the bathroom with the phone and the cigarettes.

"For fuck's sake, where _are _you!" Adam's sobbing again.

They're so _close. _

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Adam."

Adam's eyes widen, and he switches his gaze from the floor and to Amanda, who's stood up again. She walks close to Adam's cell, and sticks her hand between the bars.

Allison is dying, too.

She's been throwing up this whole time, and now she lay on the floor, pink tears-yes, _bloody _pink tears-are falling down her face. But she's not moving. The only reason Adam knows she's still alive is the fact that her eyes are still open and her chest is moving up and down.

Adam's stronger than she is. He has a better chance of surviving.

But maybe that doesn't matter.

Adam is _tired. _His stomach wound hurts, his hands hurt, his throat hurts, his body hurts from heaving so much, and he's worn out. And if he decided to fall asleep on the floor, he'd probably never wake up.

He barely has the energy to get back to his feet. He staggers as he does, unfortunately, because everything is spinning. The room is a top, and it's spinning so fast that Adam sways, he sways backwards and nearly falls off of his feet. Adam's eyelids feel so heavy, so wet and heavy from sweat that if he blinks too much, they might just stay closed for good.

He's lucky he has the energy to sputter, "What the fuck do you want, Amanda?"

"The phone," Amanda says simply, smirking. "I need to talk to Dr. Gordon about something."

She's lucky Adam doesn't have enough strength to argue with her. Adam just murmurs into the phone, murmurs half-asleep, "I love you, Lawrence." And his trembling hand hands Amanda the phone.

"Thank you." Amanda takes the phone, presses it to her ear. Adam's legs wobble, and they give out, causing him to literally _fall _on his ass. The only thing that saves his head from hitting the floor is his hand, which sits him back up. The room is _blurry, _blurry only because Adam's eyes are watering.

It hasn't even been three hours.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"H-hello...?" Lawrence stutters, only taking one more step forward. Naturally because this room might be a trap.

"Hello, Dr. Gordon."

Okay. The voice is a woman's voice. Different from Sheena's. Touched with malice, but sickened with some sort of... Strong desire. Strong desire and hatred. Despite being touched with malice, desire, and hatred, the voice is sticky, sweet like honey. A voice that you would be able to trust if you were a fool. Because no voice that sweet is one you can trust. They all have some sort of ulterior motive.

"Who is this?" Lawrence asks quietly, stopping in his tracks. Yes, it's the movie Phonebooth all over again. Lawrence is the guy who needs to learn his lesson. This chick is the derranged, sadistic Teacher of Life.

"You don't remember me. I'm not very surprised, Dr. Gordon, since the only thing you seem to care about nowadays is yourself."

"Adam." Lawrence squeaks it. "Where's Adam?"

"Behind the door in front of you." Lawrence's eyes drift to the door. "But I just want you to know that... The door is locked, Dr. Gordon. And I have the key to it."

She's in the room in front of him. With his Adam. He can hear her talking without even listening to her through the phone.

The door in front of Lawrence has a handle. That fucking handle... That fucking handle won't _turn, _no matter how much Lawrence wants it to, no matter how much weight he forces his hands on it. So instead, Lawrence looks through the peephole.

Okay.

He sees Adam. Adam surrounded by bars, in a cell. Adam with his dark hair in a ruffled mess. Adam with vomit and blood surrounding him and staining his shirt. Adam's breathing. Breathing quickly. Thank God. He'd known Adam was alive, of course, but just being able to see him again right now brings Lawrence an overwhelming calmness.

He sees Allison. Allison's in the same situation as Adam. Some of her blonde hair is turned brown by blood, and as Lawrence stares at her through the peephole, he's not entirely sure his wife is still alive. He doesn't love Allison, but it scares the hell out of him.

The last thing he sees is... A woman. A woman with dark, spikey hair, wearing a long, red coat. Holding a phone in her right hand. She turns around. Lawrence can study her face now.

And when he does...

Without warning, Lawrence's heart skips a beat.  
_  
H-he... Helped me._

The memories find their way through Lawrence's mind so fast that he barely has time to study them. A brown-haired girl with a pony-tail. Scars on her mouth. Crying. Shivering. Talking about murdering someone to save herself, cutting open someone, digging through someone's stomach desperately for a key, for Christ's sake...

Amanda Young.

Lawrence puts one bleeding hand over his mouth.

_Amanda Young._

This whole time...

"Amanda Young?"

The person in the red coat who had found their way into the parking lot, captured Lawrence, taken him to the bathroom...

She's working with Jigsaw.

She has been this whole time. This whole fucking time!

"That's right, Dr. Gordon," Amanda chuckles. "Before we begin your final test, there are some things I would like you to know. The boxes on the storage crates hold some valuable items for you. I suggest you take them _now, _lest you feel that they're not important. But I can assure you that they are."

"Fuck..." That's all that comes out of Lawrence's mouth. He might as well just say, "Yes ma'am," because that's the tone it's in.

Okay.

He'll take what's in the boxes.

Lawrence isn't sure that his feet are what brings him to one of the boxes, but he doesn't really care at this point. His fingers fumble over the latches, like they're trying to keep away from the latches, but they can't, they _can't, _because Adam and Allison are in that room, dying.

His fingers somehow find a way to open the box, and smack dab in the middle of it rests a needle cyringe.

"Which box did you just open?" Lawrence hears Amanda ask.

"The one with the cyringe."

His voice has been squeezed out like a rag losing water.

"Oh. That's an antidote for the nerve gas. Very useful indeed, isn't it?"

Lawrence doesn't even respond. He just steps over to the other storage crate, his fingers fumbling over the next latch. He flips the latch upwards, and...

The next item is a key.

Lawrence knows how Jigsaw works. How this key won't work on the door in front of him, only on some other stupid fucking door, but he tries it on the door anyways.

And of _course _it doesn't work.

"Are you ready for your final test?"

Amanda's voice is so far away.

It doesn't matter if he's ready or not.

Lawrence will have to play this one final game.

Whether he's prepared to or not.

Even though Lawrence hasn't answered, Amanda goes on, "The final test has simple rules. You must choose once and for all who you want to be with. Adam or Allison."

Fuck Jigsaw.

"Whoever is chosen will be able to live. They'll be able to get out of here alive with you."

Right. Lover.

"Whoever is not chosen will die. I will plunge a knife into their heart. By now, Allison and Adam are weakened so much that they can barely move. So it's not like they'll be able to stop me."

Adam or Allison.

Adam or Allison.

Adam or Allison.

Good God, is Lawrence's life really so much of a rip-off from Phonebooth?

Lawrence's knows this feeling that settles deep within his chest. He knows it like home.

Because it's the same feeling of desperation he'd felt whenever he was sawing off his own right foot.

_No no no no no no no no help me why why is this happening to me what did I do wrong please help me oh stop this now I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry stop stop stop help help me please don't don't no no no no._

That feeling is like a sun.

Lawrence can reach towards it, but no matter what, he'll _never _get to it.

No one wants to die.

He knows that.

_No one _wants to die. Not for real.

Jigsaw is wrong about _everything._

Lawrence doesn't want anyone to die.

Not because of his own decisions.

But he knows what his choice is. It lights up like a street surrounded by street lanterns.

It lights up like a billboard in his mind.

Because there's only one person Lawrence loves more than anything.

One person who needs him, who really, down deep, from the bottom of his heart, loves him too.

_"Are you going to tell me your name or what?"_

The young man turned, looked at Lawrence, and for the first time, he actually seemed moderately calm. A little trusting. His words showed no hatred or disdain as he replied clearly, "Adam."

Lawrence hears it in his mind, echoing through hallways, carved into his bleeding heart. His heart has Adam's name on it. It's marked. Forever.

Allison is not on Lawrence's mind anymore. As far as he's concerned, Adam is the sole thing his mind is wrapped around right now, and that's it. Allison is a dying stranger. That's it.

Adam is his life.

Adam is everything.

Lawrence presses his face on the door. He's crying. Overwhelmed with love and sympathy for the little runt lying on the floor inside the next room. No, his shoulders are shaking, he's sobbing so much that his throat hurts, and he almost _dies _because he wants to be with Adam so much again.

"I love A-Adam," he chokes out, digging his nails into the wood of the door. "I love Adam Faulkner more than anyone on this whole entire planet, I really do, I'm so sorry Allison... Both of you, I'm sorry..."

He's not sure Allison and Adam can hear him through the door. But it's not like he cares.

He's standing in a dark hallway by himself while all he wants to do is open that door and see his Adam again.

He almost doesn't hear Amanda.

Amanda laughs. "All right then. It's Allison who dies." Lawrence looks through the peephole again. He doesn't know why. For Christ's sake, he's about to watch Allison die.

Amanda unlocks Allison's cage door with a key, and even when Allison sits up a little bit, the blonde barely can. Amanda forces Allison's head down, takes out a rusty scalpel, and raises it.

Allison.

Goodbye.

It happens.

It happens so fast that even Adam jerks his head up to see. Lawrence can see bloody tears rolling down his face.

There's blood dripping all over the floor, dark red and thick.

Amanda's eyes are evil, malicious slits, but they're losing their avarice light.

Allison's eyes are blue, triumphant, but exhausted. Fighting for life.

Lawrence puts his hand over his mouth again. His eyes have never been this wide, this surprised.

It had happened so fast.

Allison had reached her hand out so fast, grabbed the fist holding the scalpel, and had wrestled Amanda to get it. Reaching for it, screaming, clawing each other. And Amanda had rolled over. And even though she had been okay at first, Allison had forced Amanda's fist upwards, jamming the scalpel deep within Amanda's throat.

There's a hole in her throat. Even after Amanda yanks the scalpel out of her throat, everyone is thinking the same thing.

Amanda is going to die.

She grasps her throat, her brown eyes practically popping out of her head. The blood runs through her fingers, down into a little puddle after she finally just gives up and lays her head against the floor.

_H-he... Helped me._

Jigsaw has brought Amanda to her demise. How is that helping her at all?

Allison's eyes are cold as she watches the Jigsaw apprentice fighting for her life. There's no regret, no remorse, no sympathy in her eyes. Because what she's doing is right. It's what needs to be done.

Lawrence, Adam, and Allison all watch Amanda on the floor. Adam's eyes widened with shock. Lawrence's eyes widened with horror. Allison's eyes widened with determination. They all watch her, listen to the choking, as there heartbeats beep in their ears, and finally, finally Amanda's fingers loosen on her neck and her entire body goes limp on the floor.

This whole place is silent, no one speaks, and Amanda Young dies.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

YES! -dances- HAHAHA! XD You guys don't know how much fun this was for me to write! AMANDA IS DEAD! NOW WHO WANTS TO PARTY! X3

Please R&R!

- 00One X00 


	11. Rebirthing

WHAPAH! I am back with another chapter, baby! School has actually been good to me, in the way that my friends are providing me with like... Tons of fic ideas. Cuz now I've got... Like six more ideas for fics. (Two of which... Crack me up...) But I'm in the mood to do something crazy and sadistic other than Heaven's A Lie, so I'mma start this idea before I start Paparazzi. It's called... Affection's Victim, and it's where Lawrence is a (psychotic) serial killer who kidnaps Adam, tortures him, but (obviously) eventually falls in love with him. So I'll start Affection's Victim after I finish Heaven's A Lie. :D For some reason, I love fics where Larry is the crazy one.****

EmeraldDragon93: ...I was getting to that... XD Sit back and let me worry about all the typos. XD

**misery-hates-company: **XD I loved writing that part. Yay for sobbing Adam! :D

Well, this chapter is probably gonna surprise a bunch of people, but go ahead and read. XD Oh, and you know how I said there are gonna be twelve chapters? Well, I lied. This is the last chapter. Mostly because I don't know how to go on after this. XD So go ahead and read the chapter, and prepare to have your heart shattered into millions of pieces.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Chapter 10: Rebirthing**

The door opens shortly after the dead silence.

Allison just got the key from Amanda's pocket, and opened the door. Now she sits on her knees, looking up at her husband, her eyes bleary and bloodshot with pink tears. Lawrence just stares at her, stares at her with the rusty, blood-covered scalpel in her left hand.

She knows what she's done. And she'd probably do it again.

Allison murdered Amanda.

Of course, Lawrence is glad that he doesn't have to watch Allison die. But Allison is such a stranger now that it wouldn't really make a difference anyways. It's just really... strange to think that Allison Maria Gordon, the woman Lawrence married and danced with for so long, the woman he kissed and made love to, the woman who conceived his daughter, just murdered another woman.

But that's Jigsaw's way, Lawrence supposes. Take a life to save your own and everything you love. After all, Jigsaw wanted him to take Adam's life to save Allison and Diana back in the bathroom.

"Larry..." Allison rasps, dropping the scalpel, looking up at him with blue eyes. Her voice is a weakened parody of its former self. A ghost. The color is fading from Allison's cheeks, and in contrast, the blood smeared on her cheek looks bright and full of life. Like it's not her blood. Most of the blood on her shirt is Amanda's, anyways.

"Ally..." Lawrence murmurs, bending down to her, wrapping his arms around her body.

Not out of love. Right now, he fucking hates her. Hates her because she had to get dragged into this, had to find out yet again that Lawrence was cheating on her for someone else.

Lawrence doesn't love her. As he hugs her, he realizes now more than ever how much they aren't mean to be. Because, pressing against her, he knows the truth. The truth is, they don't fit together the way Lawrence does with Adam. Despite everything they've been through, they don't belong together.

Allison is not right.

Lawrence is just hugging her to assure her everything's going to be okay now. He's here, they're safe, and Amanda will never be able to haunt them again. All she is is a fucking corpse lying in a puddle of her own scourge.

So Lawrence pulls away from Allison. Leaves her on the floor.

He pulls the key from the box out of his pocket, and walks to Adam's cell.

Delirious, Adam lifts his head from the floor, coughing slightly, like he barely even has enough strength left. He doesn't speak at first. How can he? There are no words to describe... Everything.

Lawrence knows he's crying again when he puts his hand over the cell lock. The tears stream down his face, and he lets out a sob as he turns the key in the lock. It sort of sounds like a chuckle.

The lock opens. The door opens.

The sobs press against Lawrence's throat, and he doesn't keep them in anymore. He can't. As he sits Adam up, wraps his arms around that small body, feeling every bone in Adam's arms, everything breaks loose. Lawrence runs the fingers of his left hand through the hair on the back of Adam's head, and Adam moans softly. "Oh, _Adam..._" Lawrence sobs, squeezing Adam tighter than he intends to. "My sweet little Adam, it's going to be all right, I promise you, I'm going to get you back to the hospital, you're gonna be just fine! Jigsaw won't get you again, he won't, you'll be safe in my arms forever..."

Adam's eyes widen, but he buries his face in Lawrence's neck. The worst is over now. Somehow, they'll get through this. They'll be fine somehow.

They're no fools. Not anymore, at least.

Lawrence turns his head to kiss Adam on the cheek, and is almost completely horrified when he sees Adam this close. Adam's lips are dark red, like he has lipstick on, and blood trails from the corners of his mouth. His pink tears have darkened to red, and his breathing is off, ragged, fast.

Wait. The antidote.

Right. Lawrence put the antidote in his pocket.

Lawrence takes the needle syringe out of his pocket, and he puts Adam's head to the side gently. "This is going to hurt a little, Adam, but you need to take this..." he murmurs next to Adam's ear. And before Adam can object, Lawrence injects the antidote between Adam's neck and shoulder.

Adam whimpers dejectedly, and Lawrence sobs once more, his heart sagging pitifully.

_You're gonna be all right. You're just wounded._

"It's okay," Lawrence says blindly.

Adam is precious. Adam is everything.

He'll survive today. Some way. He's taken the shot, and he'll survive somehow. He's Adam Faulkner. He survived being shot in the shoulder, sitting in the dark for two days, breaking down, being schizofrenic, attempting suicide, and there's no way in _hell _he won't be able to survive _this!_

Lawrence's heart almost stops, suddenly.

Or it skips a beat.

Through his own frosty startle, he doesn't know anymore.

Adam flinches beside him. The word, "Motherfucker..." is muttered.

Oh, God.

The door between the two cells, the door across from the door Allison is sitting by, has just been opened. A tall man has just stepped out of it. He's dressed in a long, black, red-lined cloak, the hood on his head. His blue gaze sweeps around the room. His gaunt face hasn't been treated well by age.

"Jigsaw..." Adam breathes, his eyes widening to where they're practically bugging out of his head.

Adam's seen him before. It feels like years ago.

The dead body that had _stood up in the middle of the room _and told him that the key to his chain was in the bathtub. The man who had told how apathetic and angry he was. The man who walked within and disturbed his conscious mind. The man who had left him for dead.

Jigsaw. In the flesh. In the rotting, living flesh.

Lawrence stands up, immediately shielding Adam with his body. Instinctively. Jigsaw can take Lawrence. Tie up his limbs and rip him apart, piece by piece. Make him live in that same wet splashing that he'd lived in in that long, dark corridor.

That doesn't matter anymore.

But Adam is a fragile, tiny soul, a tiny soul bound to Lawrence. A body with a beating, emotional heart.

Fuck, no way in hell is Jigsaw going to take Adam again.

Jigsaw speaks. His voice cuts through Adam and Lawrence like a stiletto.

"Hello, Adam. Hello, Dr. Gordon."

Adam's breath shakes. Lawrence can hear it behind him.

Jigsaw doesn't even look at Amanda. He doesn't have to.

Death clings to this room like burrs stick to clothes.

"I see my apprentice is dead. But that doesn't change the fact that Allison broke the rules."

Allison stiffens on the other side of the room, panting and sitting up straight. Oh, that's right. She doesn't know. "Yeah," she says. "So what? She deserved to die."

"No one deserves to die." Jigsaw stares back at Adam and Lawrence. "Anyways, judging by the things I've seen tonight, you two obviously love each other very much. Lawrence, you love Adam even though he drove you over a brink. You love him even though he tried to commit suicide right in front of you."

"That's the truth," Lawrence growls firmly, nodding.

"And Adam, you love Lawrence, even though he lied to you, even though he left you in the dark. You love him even though he already has a family. You love him even though his world rules far above yours."

"And I suppose you know everything now," Adam hisses under his breath sharply, despite his shaking hands and breath. Lawrence glances back at him.

"You love each other," Jigsaw goes on. "It's in plain view. Lawrence, you have sacrificed so much for Adam's life tonight. But that still doesn't change the fact that Adam is selfish. That he's never had to sacrifice anything for _you. _Adam still hasn't learned _his _lesson."

Bullshit.

"But the thing is... With Lawrence's help, Adam, you can change. Lawrence is what you need. Lawrence will help you straighten your life out."

Adam glares at Jigsaw. And the only reason he does is because he knows he's right.

"And what about _me?" _Allison rasps, narrowing her eyes. She stands up, swaying slightly as if the equilibrium's been knocked out of her head. Allison's not looking at Jigsaw anymore. Instead, she scowls at Lawrence. Her husband even though they shouldn't be together. "Larry, what about _me?_"

"Allison..." Lawrence looks at her. No, stares at her.

Why does he have to say it to her face?

_That is complete bullshit. I'd rather you break down and tell me you hated me. At least there'd be some passion in it._

"Ally..." Lawrence scratches the back of his head. "I know... I know we've been through a lot. But the thing is... I just don't feel the way I used to about you." That's good. Let her down gently. "When I talk to you, it feels like I'm talking to a stranger." The truth. "The truth is... I don't know you anymore, Allison."

He's never known her.

Fools get married young. That's how it is. You never know the person enough.

"And I know we have a child. But I'm willing to work things out."

There's no reason why Diana can't have two homes.

"Allison..." Lawrence says, walking to her, gripping her shoulders, shaking her slightly. "I know we've been through a lot together." The words are knives through his own chest. "But I love Adam. And nothing's going to change that."

And the rest of what he's going to say is interrupted.

Adam's screaming.

Not out of pain.

No, he's still all right.

But Jigsaw isn't.

Lawrence hadn't realize it before, but Allison had dropped the scalpel when she'd stood up.

Adam has it now.

Adam has knocked Jigsaw against the wall, the scalpel in his left hand. His right hand grips Jigsaw's throat. "You _crazy motherfucker!" _he screams, raising his arm to stab Jigsaw, who's gasping, gasping for breath, gasping to get away from his own victim, own test subject. The person he's been teaching.

And sometimes, students surpass their teachers.

Yes, Adam won't die today. Adam's precious soul has already been saved.

But Jigsaw's soul is hanging by a loose tendon.

Because when Adam stabs Jigsaw right in the eye, right in the fucking eye, everyone - Adam, Lawrence, and Allison - knows that Jigsaw's going to die today.

Adam stabs him over and over, over and over, over and over again, right in the eye, and blood falls down Jigsaw's face.

Jigsaw is dead.

Adam keeps screaming, though, long after Jigsaw has died.

This is the man who ruined him. The man who put him in a small room for two days. The man who pushed so many thoughts of suicide into his head. This is the man who filled Adam's bed with a wet warmness for so many nights. This is the man who forced the love of his life into a pool of needles, the man who forced his love's hands up into a box, the man who made the blood hemorrhage in Adam's lungs.

This is the man from so many Jigsaw news reports. So many people have died because of his stupid, shitty, sadistic, fucked up games.

Never again can Adam let what happened to him and the love of his life happen to someone else.

So that's why Jigsaw has to be dead.

Adam gives up on the stabbing. His throat is hoarse, and he has to stop screaming to cough, to take deep breaths inside so he won't hurt his lungs more than he already has.

The sobs press against his throat, too quickly, and Adam throws Jigsaw's body to the floor. The tears spill over, out of his eyes, and Adam sinks to the floor. He pulls his hands up to his sweaty face, covering it, because there's no point in letting anyone else see it anymore.

Just like that, the man who tortured Adam's life is dead.

He'd always thought of Jigsaw like a God or something, someone who would smight him if he even got a thought in his head about killing him.

But tonight, Jigsaw is the same as him.

Bones covered with flesh and blood, and nothing else.

Nothing more, and nothing less.

And the worst part is, Adam wishes that he could feel nothing. Wishes that he could just kill his demons and tormentors and feel nothing, nothing at all, just like Jigsaw. Wishes that he could just end all the lives interfering with the love and comfort that Adam and Lawrence give each other.

But Adam's not that kind of person.

Adam can't be a murderer.

Well, of course, he's now the murderer of Zep and Jigsaw.

But it's not like he could ever be a word-class, striking-fear-into-the-hearts-of-little-children serial killer. He could never make pools of blood flow into a nice long river by his feet just because he's suffered a little in his life.

Adam feels. And he hates that about himself.

He hates that Jigsaw can be stone-faced, have no emotions at all, but he, Adam Faulkner, even with all the shit he's been through in his life, can't keep a straight face after tossing his tormentor's dead body onto the floor.

Adam doesn't want to be like Jigsaw.

But he doesn't want to be himself, either.

And yet Lawrence loves him just the way he is.

Loves how Adam can't keep a straight face under all this pressure, loves him even though he snaps and hides his true self so far within his body that it's held steady in a small jar.

Adam hates himself. And he can't stop hating. Once you start, you never stop.

And that's why he can never be with Lawrence.

He can never taint Lawrence's life with all this hatred and backed-up shit and sorrow that fills his body, his entire being, every day, every single day, and it never gets easier. Adam has to live, breathe, walk inside that body of hatred, and it'll never get easier.

As Lawrence runs to Adam, wraps his arms around his body, pressing against him so warmly, with tears falling from his face onto Adam's shirt, Adam knows it'll never be easier.

He'll be the same until the day he dies. Lawrence will the same until the day _he _dies.

Lawrence's mouth is right next to Adam's ear. "You're gonna be all right, Adam, it's gonna be okay." His voice is truly a doctor's voice, except for the terrible wetness and thickness that envokes it. Lawrence's fingers are gripping Adam's arms so tight that Adam has to bite his lip to keep from whimpering. "It's just going to be you and I from now on, you and I!"

Lawrence, still gripping Adam's arms, takes himself away from Adam's body and looks into those darkened, sullen eyes. Those eyes that know nothing but fear and melancholy right now. "I love you," he whispers, his blue eyes immediately filling with tears once again, because he's like Adam right now, like Adam in the way that he can't hold them back. Not anymore.

Too many tears have been held back since Jigsaw came into their lives.

"I fucking love you, Adam."

Wavering. His voice is wavering. Quivering.

"I didn't tell you, I only told you that one time, and I didn't even wait to see if you would say it back, and I... I..." God, he's talking so fast now. "I should've told you right there, right there, right there in the bathroom, right when I had the chance, I should've... I should've never left you again... I love you so fucking much... I'll never leave you again, for as long as I live..."

He doesn't deserve Adam. He knows he doesn't. Because everything he did caused he and Adam both to wake up in that bathroom, to end their first time together crying and bleeding and trembling.

But then again, if he never did all that stuff...

He and Adam wouldn't be together now.

Lawrence straightens up Adam's damp hair and kisses his forehead. "My sweet little Adam, I'll get our lives back together again, and this time... This time we'll have each other to build up our _life _together... Life's just beginning for us..."

Adam stares back into Lawrence's shining blue eyes, and he sobs again, but this time, almost merrily.

Yes, almost merrily.

He's lived a life without Lawrence.

The person he was before is dead now.

Now he's living a life _with _Lawrence.

He has to be, or at least _try _to be the new Adam Faulkner. He knows he's going to have to change some things.

And that's okay.

Of course he can change some things. Of course he can quit smoking immediately, be just a little bit less bitter. He doesn't care. He'll change his entire appearance and personality if he has to.

Because, the truth is, in shining letters on a billboard in a corridor of Adam's mind...

Adam can't live without Lawrence.

Not now. Not now that they're together again.

"I know you love me, Lawrence," Adam murmurs, trembling. Trembling because the pain in his side and the pain in his hand and the pain in his lungs. "I love you, too, I always have... Since the beginning..." He wipes his eyes.

He can feel Allison watching with crossed arms.

He doesn't fucking care anymore.

The room is black.

Black except for Lawrence.

It's like a spotlight is shining on him and nothing else.

"I've always loved you. Through everything, I... I've always loved you. Never forget that."

His voice is stern. Adam means it. He'd write those words on the wall with a permanent marker if he could.

Because he means it. He always has.

"I'll never forget."

Lawrence puts his hand, his bleeding hand, underneath Adam's legs, and he puts his other bleeding hand under Adam's head.

And he cradles Adam like a baby.

He glances at Allison as she walks to Amanda's body and plucks the phone from her cold, lifeless fingers. Now, since Sheena's out and Amanda and Jigsaw are dead, she can call the cops. Allison weakly sinks to her knees, coughing into one hand, her eyes watering. Her fingers press the three buttons, almost too slow, and she holds the phone to her ear.

Lawrence lays Adam's head in his lap and strokes his face gently.

Adam's tired. So fucking tired.

He's entitled to be tired. He's been through so much shit that he can be tired all he wants.

He doesn't hear Allison talk, or he hears her, but he doesn't understand her, because her voice is just a lowered volume now.

Adam just feels Lawrence kiss the eyelids of his shut eyes and hears him say, "We're going home, Adam. We're going home."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Things are getting better.

Little by little, things are getting better.

Lawrence's hands and Adam's stomach wound are healing.

They have each other, at least, and that helps a little. Love doesn't heal wounds, but it takes some of the hurt away. And that's okay. Adam and Lawrence can deal with that. After all, it'll be all right.

It's been two months.

Two, short, quiet, months of healing.

Watching people pass by outside the window, argue, kiss, go to work, drive away. The days have gone by so fast that it feels like a tiny video game blip, popping on the screen for just a second, just a tiny second. No thoughts of Sheena who killed herself in prison or thoughts of Amanda and Jigsaw cloud their minds anymore. They have to get over that, one way or another.

Lawrence has divorced Allison after they'd been discharged from the hospital. Diana comes over sometimes, but most of the time, Lawrence and Adam are alone in their new apartment. And sometimes, Adam's by himself, because Lawrence works for most of the day.

That's okay. Adam sleeps for most of the day nowadays. He's always tired nowadays, and that's not really a bad thing. Adam deserves as much sleep as he can get.

Besides, Lawrence loves unlocking the apartment door with his keys, walking in, seeing Adam asleep in the bed they bought together, holding Adam's face in his hands, seeing those eyes open and glimmer with recognition. "Hey, man, what's up?" Adam will say, and he'll sit up, his hair messy.

Lawrence loves Adam. He would quit his job in a heart beat just to stay with that little body all day if he could. If he could quit, he would never leave Adam, never leave him ever, ever again. Because the truth is, he hates leaving Adam by himself all day. Because another crazy motherfucker like Jigsaw could break the windows and grip Adam's arms with his nails, haul him to and alley and beat him to death.

But Lawrence has to trust Adam. Has to trust Adam and himself.

Adam will be okay. He just has to trust that Adam will be okay.

Today, though, Lawrence is not okay.

He's not okay because he doesn't know if Adam's okay.

Lawrence just walked into his and Adam's apartment, gone to their bedroom to try to yank Adam out of bed.

The bed is made.

All of the rooms are vacant of Adam.

Without Adam, this isn't Lawrence's apartment.

Lawrence forces his stitched palms to his head, and he literally starts panting.

Some sort of Jigsaw has been here. He knows it. He knows it. Because Adam's gone. And the shape on the shower curtain in their bathroom disturbs him in ways that no one else can understand.

__

The sound of the door opening interrupt's Lawrence's inner-monologue. And then the sound of the door shutting nearly makes his heart stop.

Lawrence stomps quickly back into the living room, and a sigh of relief escapes his mouth when he sees a short, skinny man take off his black leather jacket and put it in the closet.

"Hey, man," Adam says, grinning and walking over to Lawrence to kiss him on the cheek. But when he tries to walk past him into the living room, Lawrence grabs his arm and looks into his eyes, tears pressing against his own blue, frightful eyeballs.

Firmly. Grabs his arm firmly.

"Adam, I called you from work several times throughout the day," Lawrence murmurs sternly, getting close to Adam's face. Adam's eyes widen, not in a scared way, but in a sort of surprised way. "Why didn't you answer your phone? You _have _to answer your phone!" And his voice wavers like he's a child throwing a fit.

"You didn't call me," Adam replies simply and quickly. "I had my phone on vibrate, and my ringer on." Ah, yes, Adam's lovely screamo ringtone. "Here, I'll show you." He digs through his blue jeans and he pulls the insides of all four pockets out. No phone. Adam's eyes widen, and he lets out a long, sharp, exasperated groan. "Oh, fuck, I must've left it on the train!"

"Train?" echoes Lawrence, arching and eyebrow. Where would Adam Faulkner, tired and apathetic, take a train to?

"Yeah, I wanted to get us something to watch tonight instead of old reruns." Adam grips the bag he had dropped - why hadn't Lawrence noticed that? - before on the floor when he went to kiss Larry. He pulls several DVDs out of the bag.

Lawrence scans them with his eyes. All horror and comedy. Adam's favorite movie genres. Lawrence's lips curve up and he loosens his grip on his lover's arm. "You know, you lost your wallet, too," he teases Adam as he looks at the little guy's pockets.

Adam's eyes widen even more, and he presses his palm to his forehead. _"Oh, fuck!" _And Lawrence just laughs, wraps his arms around Adam's waist, and kisses his pale white neck up and down.

"I have to buy you a phone, later," he murmurs, right next to Adam's ear. "I can't constantly be worried about your safety at work."

Adam chuckles softly and scratches the back of his head. "I suppose I've gotten over my own safety, Lawrence, 'cause Alex hasn't visited me and told me to kill myself." That's right. Alex isn't with Adam anymore. Because Alex was part of Adam's old life.

The old life he's let go to be with Lawrence.

Of course, Adam will never forget that life now. That life lasted for twenty-six years. That life made him who he is today.

And Adam will never forget Alex. She was his first love, after all.

But sometimes, you have to write a different chapter in a different story.

You have to start over with a clean slate.

And that's what Adam's doing. He's starting his life over.

And this time, even though Jigsaw's dead and he'll haunt their lives until they day, Adam knows that it'll be okay. He just has to get up, dust himself off, and walk away from the ruins of his old life.

It'll be okay. Because his new life is warm, comforting, happy, and it breaks away the blackness around the dark red circle in Adam's heart.

The circle has grown.

Lawrence is Adam's new life.

And it'll all be okay.

That's why Adam doesn't smoke much anymore. He has to find a way to deal with his problems. He has to find a way to feel okay without smoking.

"That's good," Lawrence murmurs, stroking the hair on the back of Adam's neck. He relaxes his stiffened shoulders and takes a deep breath. Relieved.

Adam will be okay.

He's twenty-seven now. He's a grown man. Lawrence has to trust that he'll be able to take care of himself.

And it's hard.

The hardest part of it was realizing that this little kid in his arms right now, this wonderful, sweet little boy who's all his...

He could've lost him.

Lawrence would jump in a pit of needles again if he had to to get Adam back.

He could've lost him.

But Lawrence just has to trust himself. Has to trust Adam.

He has to trust that Adam's going to make it alone.

"By the way, happy birthday," Lawrence says, kissing Adam's cheek slowly.

Adam smirks. "Larry, I told you, you don't have to make a big deal about my birthday."

"And what's the fun of that?" Lawrence purrs, taking his hands off of Adam and walking to the closet hallway. Lawrence opens the closet, and pulls out a small, gift-wrapped box with black wrapping paper, the way Adam would've wanted it if he'd known. "Happy birthday, baby." He holds the box out to Adam.

"Oh, Lawrence," Adam sighs, and takes the box, shaking his head. Scribbled on a little stick-on tag is _"Happy November 4th." _"Thanks..." Adam tears the wrapping paper off of the box, revealing just the cardboard, so Adam uses one nail to open the box.

It's then that he sees what's inside is a tissue paper-covered digital camera.

Adam takes it out of the box, manuevers it in his hands, and pushes the buttons, even though the camera's not on and it has no batteries in it.

Voyeur.

That's why Jigsaw put him in the bathroom.

Seeming to realize what Adam's thinking, Lawrence shakes his head and says, "I didn't mean it that way. You said when we moved in that you'd broken your awful flash camera, so I wanted to buy you a good quality one. And since your talent is photography..." He winks. "And I wanted you to have a keepsake of me, just in case."

Adam stares at him with confused greenish gray eyes. "Lawrence, what do you mean, 'just in case?'"

"Well." Lawrence wraps his arms around Adam's waist again and brings him to the couch, sitting him in his lap. "I know you won't leave me, and I wouldn't leave you, either, but just in case... I want you to have something that makes you think of me every time you touch it or see it."

Adam feels like an ass.

"Do... you want something that reminds you of _me?" _he asks quietly.

"I already have something, remember?" Lawrence chuckles. "Memories. Everything we've been through. And a scar around my ankle." Adam looks down, so Lawrence smiles and kisses his neck again. "That scar isn't a bad thing. If it wasn't for this scar, I would've never gotten free. I would've never gotten help for you. I would've never gotten you out of that bathroom. That scar made me realize my love for you."

"Despite everything," Adam adds on.

Lawrence pauses, his hand under Adam's shirt, stroking every rib that he can find. He knows he has to tell Adam about this sometime. Because either Adam's going to find out, freak out, rip his hair out, and go shut himself in the bathroom like he usually does when he's angry before he can be comforted by Lawrence. Or Lawrence can tell him, he can be scared, swallow a few frightened sobs, and assure himself that he's going to be all right.

Sensing something wrong, Adam turns his head and looks at Lawrence. "What is it?"

Lawrence purses his lips, and he sighs. "Adam, get up for a second. There's something I found before you came home." Adam stirs and stands up slowly, his eyes widening again as he follows Lawrence to the bathroom.

Lawrence is scared. He has to bite his lip to keep his teeth from chattering.

He turns on the light.

He doesn't even look at the shower curtain.

He just stares at Adam, whose breath shakes.

Adam turns away from the large red heart drawn on the shower curtain.

In the middle of the heart, the words_ Game Over _are painted in dark red paint.

Some sort of Jigsaw has found them again.

But Jigsaw his part of Adam's old life.

Even if Jigsaw has a whole network of killers working for him, Jigsaw cannot disrupt their lives any more than he already has. Adam realizes that now. Even if they're being followed, watched, stalked, no matter what, everything will be okay.

Scars may not go away, but they do heal. And Jigsaw is just another healing scar.

"Adam?" Adam can feel Lawrence's concerned blue gaze burning into the back of his head.

"Jigsaw's won somehow," Adam says, turning and looking at Lawrence. "We'll always be his victims. Even if he's dead, we'll always be his fucking victims." He sighs. "But you know what? I'm starting to get over it. Because Jigsaw can't take us apart again."

Lawrence smiles, putting his hand on Adam's shoulder. He leans in, kissing Adam's lips over and over and over again and maybe even sliding his tongue in that mouth a little.

And when Adam and Lawrence are left panting slightly, Lawrence strokes Adam's face with the back of his hand. "Jigsaw hasn't won. Never think that, Adam." He smiles a little bigger. "Now, which movie did you want to watch tonight?"

Yes, no more worries. No more Jigsaw. Not in Adam's new life.

Adam rolls his eyes. "I hate picking," he mutters good-naturedly. "But it's between Back to the Future and Orphan. I really wanted to see Orphan, but Back to the Future is my favorite movie."

"It is, huh?" Lawrence laughs. "Yeah, that's a good one."

"The reason I think I liked it so much as a kid and teenager is because of the possibility of going back in time to change my past. I thought, 'Maybe if I could get some sort of flux capaciter, I could go back in time and save my mother or go back in time to save Alex.' I don't really know. I just always loved the possibility of time travel, I guess."

Lawrence nods. "We can always watch Orphan later or tomorrow after I get home from work. If Back to the Future is really your favorite movie, let's watch that."

Adam smirks and wraps his arms around Lawrence's neck, standing on his toes to reach him. "Thanks, Lawrence. I love you, by the way."

It's true. He can never say it enough to express how much that's true.

Lawrence grins. "I know. I love you, too, Adam Faulkner. Probably more than someone could love another person." He kisses Adam's forehead tenderly and gently.

He could've lost his Adam.

He wouldn't have been able to live without him.

So now Adam and Lawrence are going to pop Back to the Future in the DVD player. Adam's going to sit in Lawrence's lap, and they're going to watch Back to the Future together.

They're not going to dwell on the past anymore. Because, no matter what, they can't change the past.

They have to focus on their future. Their new life together.

And Lawrence is right. Jigsaw hasn't won.

The demons threatening to swamp Adam and Lawrence haven't won.

Adam lets Lawrence run his fingers over the long, thin, healing stomach scar underneath his shirt and he sighs, his lip curving up a little.

To win, you have to sacrifice.

And to sacrifice, you have to love.

And to love, you can't dwell on your mistakes.

Adam's not sure if he says that out loud, but he feels like he does, maybe.

He looks at Lawrence.

_I wouldn't lie to you._

He hasn't.

Lawrence's promise hasn't been broken.

It was never made to be broken.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

D'AAAAAAAAAWWWW! XD Thank you, everyone, for reading! This story has been so great to write! Don't you just love those two?

PLEEEEEAAAAASE review! :D Thank you, everyone!


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